


So Here We Are

by LieutenantLiv



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantLiv/pseuds/LieutenantLiv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starfleet academy au. A single comment from Spock's mother forces him to reconsider his feelings for Jim and everything he has ever known about himself. You know what they say about University.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spock

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 한국어 available: [So Here We Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605360) by [heyneble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyneble/pseuds/heyneble)



> Hi guys! I've been writing this for a couple of weeks, so chapters should be released pretty frequently for now. It's my first story on archive of our own! It's very fluffy and fun, nothing too angsty. I hope you like...
> 
> This starts in Spock's POV. It alternates per chapter.

_“You are dedicated to him.”_

Three years of Starfleet training, 17 years of education and 21 years of outstanding emotional control, and that was her evaluation.

He had only worked along side James Tiberius Kirk for three years, but in that time they had formed a rather turbulent relationship. It had begun with pure loathing (or at least on Kirk’s side), frustration and misunderstandings. It then developed into them mutually ‘dealing’ with each other’s discrepancies- and predictably the frustration and misunderstandings often remained. But things changed, at what point, Spock could not pinpoint. 

A kind of respect for their differences developed, as they eventually realised their compatibility. They contrasted each other in the most perfect way. Kirk’s intuition counterbalanced Spock’s logic, his passion with his shrewd intelligence, his impulsive nature with his strict observance of the rules. They formed the perfect leaders for a starship- or, for anything and anywhere, for that matter.

And so, unsurprisingly, this compatibility formed into a unique friendship. They knew each other’s strengths and flaws better than anyone else, they had nothing to hide from each other. They knew each other as well as they knew the inner mechanics of a starship, because they had to- and that created an incomparable bond, which nothing could break. They were so different, and yet they clicked together as naturally as two polished, perfectly working cogs. To the extent that one was rarely ever seen without the other. 

And it was because of this, Spock suspected, that on his mother’s first meeting with his future captain- his best friend- she had said the following, when Spock was walking her back to her hotel; _“You are dedicated to him.”_

He had been explaining that he and Kirk had formed a relationship which was essential for a first officer and captain to share, if they were to trust each other in critical situations. Spock was leading her to the hotel where she and his father Sarek were staying, close to the edge of the campus; the lights of San Francisco were leaving the sky in a dull orange haze, ironically blocking the stars from view.

Amanda had wrapped her scarf closer to her neck, which was traditional Vulcan clothing; she’d forgotten what it felt like to be cold, now that she was no longer on Vulcan. 

“It is an essential part of our training, if we are to be a compatible captain and first officer.”

“That’s true,” she’d mused. She looked at the ground as she walked. A smile crept up, but she’d learned to chase it away after all her years being on Vulcan. And _married_ to a Vulcan. “I’m glad that you’ve thrived so much here, Spock. I always knew you would.”

“And I have always appreciated your support.”

“Oh, well, you have my support whatever path you choose, Spock. You’ve always made me proud.” Predictably, Spock hadn’t replied as he walked along side her, hands behind his back. “And besides, you don’t need my support. You’ve always forged your own paths, regardless of what your peers or superiors may expect from you. You’ve achieved all of this by yourself, and it makes me very proud.”

Spock had bowed his head awkwardly. Such praise was a human trait. Vulcans did not see any merit in flattery, and so they did not know how to react to it, either. 

“It’s wonderful to see how well you’ve done for yourself here. Academically, of course, but also socially.”

Spock’s eyebrow twitched in reaction to this. “It is… hard to avoid, when living on a small campus, and when one shares most of your classes with the same people.”

Amanda’d tried not to giggle. She knew he wouldn’t easily accept the fact that he’d made friends. She’d met a few of them only a few moments ago- the shrewd Nyota Uhura, the ‘all bark but no bite’ ‘Bones’ (who Spock had emphasised was _not_ in fact his _friend_ ), the quiet, kind Hikaru Sulu, and of course, James Kirk. And quite a character, he was too- so charismatic, intelligent. She could see how he might live up to Spock’s description as being a ‘chronic romancer’. 

She’d also noticed how Spock had naturally drifted to his side, like he belonged there. 

Amanda had spent the last few decades or so on Vulcan, where little to no emotion was ever seen. So when she saw the way Spock and James conversed, connected, she could tell. She noticed immediately that their relationship was much more than professional. 

“It was lovely to meet your friends,” she had added. 

Spock was used to small talk now, after three years on Earth. “I am glad you approve of them- although, again, I must stress, that Doctor McCoy is not what I would call a friend.”

Amanda had released a chuckle. She couldn’t help it. She’d missed her son and how much he amused her. 

“I can understand now why you and James Kirk would be a compatible pair, having seen you both together.”

Spock frowned. 

“You are dedicated to him.”

And now, Spock was lying on his bed. Meditating. Or at least, he would be, if he could stop picking apart his mother’s statement. She had lived on Vulcan, around Vulcans long enough to recognise certain implications in a phrase. She also knew that Spock would easily pick up on these implications, and would never accidentally include them. She was too astute to make such mistakes. 

And so, the fact that she’d referred to him and Kirk as a “compatible pair”, had said that he was “dedicated”, strongly and purposefully implied that Spock cared about Kirk. That he cared far more than a first officer would for his captain.

His hands hovered above his face, connected by the tips of his fingers, forming a sort of arch. This was a common position he assumed when meditating; except now he had his eyes firmly shut. Usually he did not need to do so- he could usually easily block out distractions from the outside world with his eyes open. Indeed, he often meditated instead of sleeping; this disturbed Kirk a lot, after one early morning he had come to wake Spock up. It’d frightened him when he thought he’d been sleeping with his eyes open. More precisely, his initial reaction was “Oh my God, woah, wait, you sleep with your _eyes open_? That is so _creepy_.”

But at this moment he was struggling to find a peaceful place. He saw the scene with him and his mother replay behind his eyelids, in his imagination. This was not a tool Spock often used- McCoy often accused him of having no imagination, but this was not true. He had one, but it was not a Vulcan custom to use it.

_You are dedicated to him._

Dedicated. 

She had not said devoted. If she had, this would have been a far less subtle hint. She appreciated that Spock was perceptive enough pick up whatever hint she was leaving- that he felt much more for Kirk than he had allowed himself to realise.

His mother’s comment did not concern him; rather, what did concern his was that he could not deny it. All evidence pointed towards it. He was dedicated. In more ways than one.

As a half Vulcan, he didn’t even realise that he was capable of feeling such a way.

When had this happened?

Like he couldn’t pinpoint the moment their mutual frustration had developed into friendship, similarly he could not remember at what point his feelings had grown into something more. 

Indeed, what were his feelings?

Dedicated was far more accurate than he had first realised. Devoted wasn’t far off either. 

Spock frowned. 

Why James Tiberius Kirk? He was infuriating, contradictory, emotionally unstable, unpredictable, often irrational, rash, competitive, argumentative…

And yet-

He was compassionate. He was kind, intelligent, perceptive, understanding, light-hearted, determined, almost childishly hopeful, complex… fascinating…

Spock sighed and opened his eyes. 

He would have to investigate this matter further.

_This is… not ideal,_ he thought.

His PADD buzzed to life, interrupting his thoughts. He stood up, picking up his PADD and leaning against the edge of his desk. It was a message from Kirk. He was at a party, as Spock recalled.

_hey spcok I just wanted to asy hotaht yourea great friend where are yyu?????_

Spock’s eyebrows pulled together in concern. He was used to drunk messages from Kirk. He always apologised the day after, expressing how embarrassed he was that he had sent them. And yet this had become a repeated action. 

He tended to respond with little more than one word answers in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity briefly. 

_My room._

He didn’t put the PADD down once he replied. He knew he’d get another message soon enough.

_can i coem ouer_

Spock frowned. This was abnormal. And his spelling seemed to be far worse than usual. 

_How much alcohol have you consumed?_

Spock paced the room, PADD in hand. Of all the people he’d met, James Kirk made him the most nervous. The pause between was longer than usual.

_Jim?_

Spock stopped, and waited.

_errr hahhsjajajahah_

Spock took that to mean he’d consumed a lot. 

_I will come and find you. Where are you now?_

_im cjlmgm enoew_

Spock couldn’t decipher the code of inebriated Starfleet candidates. Klingon, Andarian, Tellarian, yes. But not the language of drunk James Kirk. 

_I insist that you stay where you are._

_okkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk ☹_

Spock did not know the meaning of ☹. He would ask when Jim was sobre.

_Where are you?_

He could hear people outside his room coming home. He looked at the time on his PADD. 2:33am; he had not realised that he’d been meditating that long. No wonder Jim was in such a state.

_hmmmmmmmmmm mutside teh aerodynamics alb._

How he’d managed to misspell every word in that sentence apart from ‘aerodynamics’, Spock would never know. 

Instead of pondering on the matter, he left his room. He had to dodge a few stumbling students, but it was no trouble. The aerodynamics lab was only a five minute walk. The sidewalk was lit up with pools of light by the street lamps, and his shadow waxed and waned as he walked beneath them. It reminded him too much of his earlier conversation with his mother.

His attention was soon diverted when he saw Jim lying on the steps outside the lab. He lay there as if he intended to sleep there all night. As he approached him, he noticed that he was, in fact, asleep. 

“Jim.”

Kirk’s mouth was slightly open, his hand supporting his head from the uncomfortable stone. He didn’t respond.

“Jim,” Spock said more sternly.

Jim looked around through wincing eyes, trying to find him. Finally, his eyes settled on Spock. “Hey, you found me!”

“It did not take me long to decipher what your message said, although it was not easy.”

“Oh yeah,” he drawled. He frowned, looking like a disgruntled child as he searched his pockets. “where… where’s my PADD…”

Spock picked it up from where it lay, directly beside him. “Perhaps I should keep this, for now.” 

“Hmmmmph.”

Spock did not respond. He did not know how to respond to ‘hmmmmph’.

Jim looked up at him with remarkably clear, blue eyes. The fact that they weren’t hazy was a surprise. Even now, when he was drunk, they were sharp and piercing. His expression, however, resembled that of a sad child.

“Can I come over to yours?”

Spock did not even need to consider. For Jim, he would do anything. 

He was devoted.

“Can you walk?”

“Pffffftt, of _course_ I can, I’m not _that_ drunk.” Spock raised an eyebrow at this. Jim slowly climbed onto his feet, holding the edge of the steps for support. He swayed worryingly. As soon as he let go of the step and tried to stand up straight, he stumbled backwards and landed on his backside. “Uhh let me try that again.”

Spock laced his arm under Jim’s and lifted him up. “I will not. I cannot let you injure yourself.”

Jim snorted, before murmuring, “Probably wouldn’t feel it anyway.”

“That is beside the point.”

For a minute Jim was walking under Spock’s support adequately. It was slow, but he was walking. Until Spock noticed that he was far quieter than usual, and that he legs had stopped moving. 

He’d fallen asleep, and he was snoring very loudly.

“Jim,” Spock said sternly. 

“Hmmmmmm.” 

“You should try to remain conscious until we return to my room.”

“Hmmmmmm.”

This was not a satisfying answer.

Spock sighed in frustration. He was infuriated. The one person that he had by chance grown truly fond of, he was now giving a fireman’s lift because he could not walk. Because he was so drunk.

“Woahhhh why is it everything upside down?”

“Because I am carrying you over my shoulder,” Spock replied patiently. 

“Why? I was… I was doing fine…” 

“You fell asleep standing up.”

“Whaaaaaat? Nooooo… woah, Spock!”

“Yes, Jim.”

“You have a really nice butt.”

Spock frowned. And blushed. If there were any moment in which he’d admit he were embarrassed, it would be now.

“How have I not noticed that before?”

“Perhaps you could go to sleep again,” Spock suggested.

Of course, as he carried his inebriated, giggling future captain through the common room and up to his dorm, they did receive a few strange looks. Neither took any notice.

“Scotty gave us this _amazing_ drink called whiskey… you- you don’t get anywhere else but Scotland anymore, apparently, but it used to be majorly popular, like, _everywhere_ … and I totally get why because _woooooooooooo.”_

“Indeed.” 

Spock opened the door to his room and took care not to hit Jim’s head on the door frame as he entered. A head injury would make matters even worse. He slid him carefully off his shoulder- though, no matter how hard he tried, Jim managed to fall onto his bed as clumsily and dangerously as possible, limps falling everywhere. It was very distressing. Eventually he managed to safely lay him on the bed, where Spock assumed Jim would fall instantly asleep. 

Spock went to check his PADD. 

_Goddammit I let my eyes drift for one goddamn minute and the guy’s gone and disappeared like a rabbit in the rush._

A message from Doctor Leonard McCoy. One thing he admired about McCoy was that he cared for Jim a lot. 

_He is currently unconscious in my dormitory. He does not seem to need medical assistance, but tomorrow morning he may seek it._

It was only a moment’s pause, before:

_Thank God. I hope he doesn’t think I’m going to be nursing his goddamn hangover tomorrow because if he does I’ll give him a smack around the head and see how he feels after that._

Spock felt his aggressiveness was unnecessary, but he appreciated it was only because he worried about Jim. That, he could understand.

He left the PADD on his desk and went to fill up a glass of water. He didn’t have any food to provide, but at least he could attempt to rehydrate him. He filled a glass up by the sink, before catching his reflection in the mirror. He looked tired. He needed to sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping well recently, and only now did he realise why; his usual, low level, emotional battles had been heightened by an external factor. 

Except sleep was clearly not an option tonight, since Jim was occupying the whole bed. 

Spock sighed and returned, placing a glass by his bedside. He considered waking him up to feed him water, but decided it would be better to let him sleep it off. 

“Spock.”

Spock looked down at him in surprise. He thought he was asleep. Obviously he was not. “Jim.”

“Don’t think I’m taking up your whole bed. Come on.” He shuffled up to the left and lay on his side. “Come on,” he repeated impatiently.

Spock hesitated. “You would get better rest if-”

“Ugh I don’t _care_ , besides this is your room.”

“And yet I’m taking orders from you as to how I should use it.”

Jim groaned in frustration. “Fine. But you look tired as hell.”

“I believe the Earth saying ‘you can’t talk’ is a suitable reply.”

He didn’t deny him, though. There was little Spock would deny Jim. He hesitantly settled beside him, lying on his back. Jim’s face was perilously close to his.

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Spock thought he’d fallen asleep. He could feel Jim relax beside him, and his breathing was slowing and deepening.

“Hey… Spock?”

“Yes, Jim.”

It sounded like he was about to fall asleep, his words were warm and drousy. “I’m lucky to have you as my friend. I’m sorry I’m such a total dick sometimes.”

Spock stared at the ceiling. “I am proud to consider myself your friend.”

Jim made a muffled noise into Spock’s shoulder as he nuzzled into it. Spock tensed up and stared at the ceiling with such intensity it was as if he intended to set it on fire with his mind. 

“Spock,” he murmured, his words still muffled.

“Yes, Jim.”

“I miss you when I’m not with you.” 

Spock didn’t know what to think or how to respond. 

Jim hesitated before speaking again. “Thanks for helping me out.” 

“You are my friend. I will always offer help.”

“Hmmm,” Jim smiled into his shoulder sleepily. “It’s nice to know someone’s got my back.”

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but had nothing to reply.

_I do not only ‘have your back’,_ he thought. _I am dedicated._


	2. Kirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim: Note to self- Spock shouldn't drink alcohol. Ever.

“Come _on_ , Kirk. You could do that test like I could find my way through a starship blindfolded.” Scotty was walking alongside Kirk and Spock’s fast pace, skipping to keep up. “Give yourself a break.”

“Scotty, I need to study,” Kirk replied shortly, “if I don’t pass this test with flying colours-”

“But you will, and you know it,” Scotty interrupted. “Everyone knows you barely need to lift a finger to get top marks. You lucky bastard.”

“Yeah well what if I actually want to work hard for this, Scotty, hm? I’ve been working towards this my whole life-”

“Are you really going to learn anymore though? Don’t you think taking an hour’s break would be more productive?” Scotty said this like it was an innocent suggestion from a concerned friend, but he wiggled his eyebrows in a way that implied alcohol would be involved. It always was when Scotty was around.

“In these circumstances I must agree with Mr Scott.”

Kirk and Scotty looked at Spock and simultaneously cried, “What?”

“I have studied with you for most of the week and it seems that you have learned all that there is to learn. A relaxed mind is just as important as a sharp one.”

Jim frowned, and nodded in submission. How did Spock always manage to persuade him? “Fine, fine, whatever. Just a couple of hours, though.”

“Brilliant,” Scotty beamed. He looked like he had some evil master plan, as he walked backwards in front of them. “I have some of that whiskey left, you know-”

“Man, are you kidding? I can’t even look at that stuff anymore,” Jim laughed. Then he remembered that night a few weeks ago, and his laughter dwindled. “I’m good just hanging out. No alcohol.”

“Yessir,” Scotty rolled his eyes. 

Scotty started chatting about something else- perhaps it was about his test in a few days time, Jim wasn’t certain, because he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t help but wonder why Spock hadn’t shied away from him. That night, he’d admitted too much, things he didn’t even realise he’d been feeling. He’d never confessed anything like that to anyone before. He wasn’t sure what he’d confessed or why. All he did know is that he was expecting Spock to stop seeing him so much after that- but he didn’t. They’d spent the whole week together. Studying, granted, but it was still together. 

Now Spock even came along with him to little social events like these. “It is essential to be practised in such social situations, since I will be expected to be present for them in the future, as a first officer,” he’d said. “It will be part of my duty.”

Even if it was just ‘part of his duty’, Jim would never admit how much he appreciated Spock’s company. 

Because what he’d said that night was true.

A familiar booming voice grew more distinct as they approached Scotty’s dorm. 

“It’s barbaric, and I don’t know why in the hell they expect us to learn it, I mean for God’s sakes, we don’t live in the middle ages.”

Jim rolled his eyes. _I wonder what it is this time._

Scotty opened the door. Uhura was leaning against the bed post with a beer, and Bones was… sewing an orange together.

“Ah, there you are. Jim, ask me why I’m suturing an orange,” he growled, wearing his most ridiculous angry expression. His left eyebrow looked like it was going arch all the way off his forehead, as he shook the orange in Jim’s direction. 

“Why are you suturing an orange, Bones?” Jim liked to play along with Bones’ angry rants.

“Let me tell you-”

“Yes, do please indulge us,” Spock muttered. Jim snorted.

“-those bastards have us sewing up oranges left right and centre for a _test_ we have tomorrow at _0600 hours._ Have you ever _heard_ of something so _ridiculous._ ”

“They’re training the medics in manual suturing, in case they’re in the middle of nowhere with no up to date med kits,” Uhura explained with a cheeky smile. 

“And so naturally I’m spending my Friday evening sewing up an _orange_ for _practice_.”

Jim leaned in to take a look at Bones’ work. 

“Hmmm. A little messy.”

“Shut up, smart ass,” he grumbled, throwing the orange at Jim’s head. He caught it just in time, before sitting in Scotty’s desk chair. Spock stood beside him, leaning against the desk. They already looked like they were on a starship together, working side by side.

Scotty sat on the bed, throwing two beers over to them. Jim rolled his eyes. Looks like he was having a drink tonight, then. But no way was he getting drunk. 

A pang of embarrassment ran through him, as he recalled Spock carrying to his room. He was pretty sure- not certain- that he’d also commented on his butt. He tended to assume that it was just a dream. Not that that was any better. 

He would’ve been surprised that Spock was having a drink a few weeks ago. He’d recently discovered however that he had tried alcohol before, although it wasn’t his chosen drink. Apparently he thought it was necessary he be used to it, since “I will be expected to take part in the customs of many different planets, if I am to work on a starship. If I cannot accept those which are part of my own heritage, then how will I ever accept those from planets millions of lightyears away from our world?” It was definitely logical, and Spock was all about logic. 

Jim had assumed for a long time that Spock was not the sort of person to stretch outside of his comfort zone, but he couldn’t be more wrong- he’d left his Vulcan home (one of great tradition and privacy) to explore strange, new worlds. And, he’d chosen to continue his education on Earth- and Earth couldn’t be anymore different to Vulcan. 

So, now, it didn’t surprise Jim that he settled with having a beer. 

Suddenly the idea of drunk Spock came into his mind and he choked on his drink. God that would be weird.

He suddenly felt guilty that he wasn’t working right now, considering that tomorrow afternoon would be the biggest test of his life. And considering the fact that Spock had been helping him so much over the past week. But if Spock said that he should take a break, he respected his opinion. He pretty much always knew best. Hell, he’d probably make a better captain than he would.

He half listened to Bones and Spock argue about something stupid. They quite often quarrelled, and it was mostly just to get on each other’s nerves. Spock denied that he did it to piss Bones off but they all knew that was what they were doing. Just pissing each other off because it was fun. And because they were friends, although neither of them admitted that.

“Perhaps if you are becoming so unstable over a simple orange, you would not do well under the pressure of a real medical emergency.”

“So just because I can’t sew an orange up neat, all of a sudden I’m a bad doctor?”

Jim smiled. He loved this.

He’d usually be laughing at them, throwing in the occasional innocuous comment which would surely set them off again. He loved listening to their showdowns. But recently he’d been distracted. With work, and… other things.

He couldn’t say exactly what. 

He’d noticed that he constantly thought about Spock when he wasn’t around- which was rarely. He’d noticed that he missed him- and had drunkenly told him so. He winced at the memory. Why was Spock even still hanging around him?

Well, because he had to. Because if they were going to work together, they couldn’t exactly start ignoring each other. He was sure Spock would have a logical explanation for it.

There was always a logical explanation.

But that wasn’t enough for Jim. The reason he’d been distracted, the reason he’d been searching for- it was that he wanted Spock to give him an illogical reason. He wanted Spock to say that he wanted to be with him all the time. 

Because Jim certainly did.

He’d hated his guts at first. It was funny to think back on- his stubborn, logical demeanour never failed to rub him the wrong way. Everything he did seemed to be a way to get to him, to piss him off. His rigid posture, stiff upper lip, piercing glare.

Only now he enjoyed that frustration. He enjoyed how stubborn they both were, how different they were, he loved how many walls he hit when he had a conversation with him. He loved trying to climb over them. He loved how much Spock challenged him, how much he pissed him off. He loved how unaccustomed he was to little human things, how confused he was by most of what Jim said. He thrived when he was around him.

And then suddenly it hit him in a wave of tingly, warm pain. 

_Damn,_ he thought. _Do I_ like _him? When in the hell did I start liking guys? Damn. Damn this is not good. Oh man._

His eyes drifted over to Spock. He was staring intently into his cup, like he was thinking something over. Jim was seeing him through entirely different eyes now. They drifted lower.

_Damn. He does have a nice butt._

Oh God, this is not good.

“…Jim? You in there?”

How long had he been thinking for? Ten minutes maybe? Uhura, Scotty and Bones were looking at him expectantly.

“What?”

“When’s your last exam?” Uhura asked.

Jim had to clear his mind to remember. “Uhhh, the 15th I think.”

“Lucky bastard,” Scotty mumbled, taking a swig from the bottle. “I have two more bloody exams until this hell is over.”

“Oh, _poor_ you,” Bones replied, “you poor thing, remind me, how many oranges do _you_ have to sew up? How many exams do you have at 0600?”

“Oh shut it,” Scotty replied.

“Oh come on, stop complaining, they’ll be over soon,” Uhura muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Says the queen of stressing out over exams!” Scotty waved his bottle at her. 

“What? Ok sure I take them seriously, but-”

“I thought you were going the punch my lights out the other day when I asked if you had a revision schedule.”

“Well it was a dumb question.”

“Not _everyone_ has a revision schedule.”

Jim zoned out again.

_Oh my God. Ok, what do I do about this?_

_You don’t do anything. You don’t need to do anything, so you won’t. You and Spock are strictly professional, and it’ll stay that way._

_I mean, there’s no way in hell I could ever tell him so-_

Suddenly Spock straightened up and carefully put his drink down. It would have been more careful, if his hands weren’t shaking. 

Bones looked up. There was genuine concern on his face. “Spock, are you-?”

“Excuse me.”

And without another word, he left.

Jim’s gaze followed him as he exited, and stayed staring at the door for a few moments. Did he know? Did he know what he was thinking?

That wasn’t possible. Vulcans could only read minds if they were touching. And they weren’t touching. So what in the hell could be wro-?

Jim caught sight of the cup on the desk. He peered into it. Empty. 

_Damn._

“Maybe I should…” Jim pointed to the door as he walked towards it. Uhura, Scotty and Bones all looked perplexed. “Thanks for… yeah.”

He left them where they were without another glance to see how they’d reply. He needed to find him.

One beer was nothing for an ordinary human, but for a half Vulcan who was most likely supressing an ocean of human emotions, it was probably too much. He’d most likely go to his dorm, so he’d check there first. He’d run down the corridors to try and catch up but there was no sight of him. He was obviously in a hurry.

His heart rate heightened as he reached Spock’s door, and not just because he was running. So much had come to light in so little time; and he was nervous for what he’d find behind the door.

He paused in front of it. He scratched the back of his neck, and knocked three times. What was he even going to say? Or do? “Spock?”

There was a ten second pause.

“I do not think… that you should want to see me right now, Jim.”

Jim hesitated. “There isn’t any time I don’t wanna see you.” All he could hear was his own breathing. A moment later, “Can I come in?”

There was another long pause. “The door is unlocked.”

He didn’t hesitate. He needed to be there. He quietly and opened the door, and closed it behind him. 

Spock sat on the edge of his bed. His hands were pressed together in front of his face, like he was praying, his eyes shut, his jaw tight, his breathing staggered. He looked like he was about to break. 

Jim stood where he was. He didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t thought about what he’d do after he’d heroically chased after him. With anyone else, he’d hug them. But with Spock, he was stumped. 

He decided that being careful around him would make him feel worse. Spock wouldn’t like the idea of him thinking he was volatile. Even if he was. So, he casually went and sat beside him, his hands behind him on the bed as he leaned back. He didn’t say a word. Forcing Spock to talk about feelings didn’t sound like a good idea.

They remained that way for about half an hour. Spock was still, completely still. It frightened Jim a little, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t really sure what was going on, although he was pretty sure it was to do with the tidal wave of emotions he’d been holding back for his whole life. 

And then Spock released a deep breath, like he’d been holding it the whole time. As if he were trying to expel his feelings. And, to Jim’s horror, a single tear rolled down his cheek. Spock gave a sigh of defeat, and opened his eyes. They looked panicked.

He couldn’t hold back the wave, and he was panicking.

Jim leaned forward. 

“I thought that I… could keep it under control.”

His hands were still pressed in front of his face. They were beginning to quiver again. 

“I can usually keep it under control. But I have changed.” His voice only gave the slightest hint that be was crying. It sounded slightly gravelly. “When I was a boy, I would often succumb to anger and pain. And now, I find myself equally conflicted-” at the last word he coughed out a sob, and squeezed his eyes shut as if to hold it all in. It wasn’t working. His breaths were fast and shaky. 

Spock was crying.

Jim shuffled up to him and turned to face in his direction. He wanted to hold him. But he didn’t think that would help. It was tearing him apart, not doing anything. But, until he knew something that would help, he didn’t dare. The fact that Spock was talking was a good thing as it was. He decided to sit and listen, although it took all his energy not to take him into his arms.

Spock’s eyes were still shut, as if he were ashamed to see Jim see him like this. He took slower, shaky breaths, with the occasional hiccup and sob throwing him off guard. 

It terrified Jim. For so long he’d known Spock as the stable, level headed one in their friendship, the one who held him back when he wanted to punch the lights out of someone, the one who carried him home when had too much to drink. But now that strong layer had been stripped away, and it was like there was a different man in front of him. He was simultaneously honoured, and terrified; this was a side of Spock no one else had seen. 

Suddenly he stood up and began to pace. Pacing was never a good sign. “I have remained successfully in control of my emotions for some time now… until I met you, James Kirk.” Jim felt like there was a black hole in his gut, sucking everything inside him into oblivion. _He’d_ somehow triggered this? Spock’s back was facing him, his shoulders taut, his hands twitching by his side. “Since coming here,” he continued, voice shaking, “I have made friends, something which I have always assumed I am incapable of, as a man of two worlds, but never belonging to either… but you, you have made me… you have made me feel more than I could ever have anticipated.” 

Jim would have thought that this were a good thing. If Spock had not then punched the wall with such force, with such frustration that his fist broke through the paintwork and left a large indent in the wall. It looked like a tiny meteor had hit it. 

Spock leant on his hand which was pressed against the wall, head hung in shame. He seemed much calmer now, his breathing was slow, steady. 

Jim was standing, although he couldn’t remember when he’d actually stood up. 

So this was his fault. 

He’d made him feel more than he could control. What in the hell did that mean? 

And suddenly, for some reason, he felt like a little boy again. He didn’t understand, and he didn’t know what to do. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

Spock’s head twitched in his direction. “Why are you apologising?”

Jim wasn’t really sure. “I just, I know I’m annoying as hell, and I get on everyone’s nerves, and I’m a smart ass and I- I put myself first too much, and it drives me crazy because I know I’m a jerk- I mean, God, you had to carry me home because I drank so much,” suddenly he felt like he couldn’t stop, “and- I don’t know, you just, you deserve _so much better_ in a friend than me-”

“Jim-”

“I-” he sighed, trying to find the right words, “I just… I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like this-”

“Jim, you’re not-” 

“And it _kills_ me that I’m part of the reason you’re like this,” he continued, Spock now facing him, “and it kills me that when it comes to the ones I care most about I screw it up-”

“Jim.”

Spock was in front of him, his hands on Jim’s upper arms. He glared at him with ever so slightly teary eyes. They were dark, unreadable. 

“Please do not think that you are at fault for my emotional struggles,” Spock said. His voice was warm, but his gaze was fierce. “It is I who am at fault, and only I.”

“But _Spock_ ,” Jim groaned, “it’s not you’re _fault_ , I mean you can’t just… control emotions, you can’t understand them or completely nullify them, it’s impossible.” 

“I am Vulcan, Jim,” he replied, with a hint of frustration. His hands were tight on Jim’s arms.

“Only half Vulcan,” he stressed. “You’re only half Vulcan, Spock. You’re also half human, and no human can possibly bottle up emotions for that long. It’s…” he shook his head, lost for words. He sometimes was around Spock. Strange, considering how he was usually so eloquent.

“I chose Vulcan life, a Vulcan upbringing,” his grip was loosening now, and his gaze wasn’t stern anymore. “That entails learning to control all emotions.”

“But you haven’t chosen a completely Vulcan life, right?” Jim pushed. He stepped closer to Spock; his eyes were slightly glistening, and his features seemed less harsh. “You’re here, not there. You chose here, not the Vulcan Academy of Science.” Jim hoped his natural persuasive skills were winning him over. But Spock wasn’t as predictable as other people. “Spock, you’re allowed to embrace you’re human side- and that includes your emotions. You _have_ to embrace them, because otherwise this happens and, I mean, I can’t stand to see you like…”

He trailed off. 

Spock was examining him. He’d seen that look before, when they were working together. He was trying to read him, like he’d found something and wanted to find out what it meant. And apparently that answer was in his eyes, because he was staring intently into them. Jim held the gaze; before he would’ve been a bit freaked out by it, but now, he was ashamed to admit how much he liked looking back at Spock.

He loved looking at Spock. Trying to decipher what was going on behind that oh-so-in-control façade, examining the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jawline, like he’d been sculpted precisely and to exact, symmetrical measurements. He loved taking in all that was alien about him, the pointed ears and eyebrows, his slightly olive toned skin, but he also loved seeing his human characteristics, like how his eyes were sometimes so warm despite being so dark and intelligent. He loved how it was suddenly making him feel, looking at his face like it was for the first time, and trying not to look at his lips as he spoke. 

He loved how he felt about Spock, but he was confused too. He was frustrated too.

A small crease formed between Spock’s eyebrows- a mannerism which Jim had grown rather fond of over the past few weeks- as he worked out what he was going to say. 

“What you say is logical, Jim, but I cannot help but feel frustrated in my lack of control. I am frustrated by my emotions, not by how you make me feel.” 

Jim frowned slightly.

“It is illogical, and makes little sense,” Spock admitted.

“No, it does make sense, I understand,” Jim replied quickly. He did understand. Which meant perhaps that… “If- if you don’t mind me asking,” he shrugged awkwardly. Spock’s hands were still on his arms, “how _do_ I make you feel?”

Jim knew it was a big push. Spock’s stare darted between Jim’s eyes as he thought. “I am afraid I do not know, exactly.”

Jim smiled and looked down. “Yeah, I’m feeling pretty confused, too.” He was definitely confused. He never said he didn’t know how he felt about him, though. That much was clear. But taking it a step further and seeing what would happen would be a really dick move, considering how vulnerable Spock was feeling right now.

They stood there like that for a few moments, unsure where to go from there. “So, are you feeling a little better?” he asked feebly.

Spock finally lowered his hands from Jim’s arms, blinking, like he hadn’t realised they were still there. “Yes. Thank you Jim.”

He snorted. He didn’t do anything. He maybe even made matters worse by ranting about himself. _God you’re such a jerk_. He smiled weakly. “No problem.”

Spock’s demeanour was returning, shoulders taut, hands behind his back, head slightly tilted. “I am going to meditate, if you don’t mind.”

“No, yeah, sure,” Jim replied, rubbing the back of his neck and sliding his other hand into his pocket. Spock lay on his back on the bed, his hands linked and resting on his chest. 

He wondered if he should leave. Was that it? Was that how they were going to leave this massive emotional confrontation? Should he just let him meditate and-

“Do not feel obligated to leave,” Spock said, as if reading his mind. He already seemed a lot calmer.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Spock sighed, his eyes closed. It looked like he was sleeping. “I am always appreciative of your company, Jim.”

Jim smiled. He was hoping he’d say that. Or something like that.

He sat on the floor by the bed, leaning against the bedside table. He noticed at first that it wasn’t actually that uncomfortable, until somehow, he started to drift off to sleep. It was getting late, and he hadn’t been sleeping well. And it was clear that an emotional weight had been lifted, which he hadn’t realised was there until a few hours ago, and the whole experience had tired him out. 

His head lulled forward. Incoherent thoughts about Spock swam through his foggy mind. He felt warm. He knew he was there.

“Jim?”

He took a deep breath in and lifted up his head as he woke up. He blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sleeping in that position is not good for your posture.”

Jim frowned. He was too groggy for Spock’s weird conversations, but he still loved it. “What?”

“A bedside cabinet is not as good as a mattress.”

He turned and sat up. Spock had shuffled up. He was looking at him innocently. “There is space.”

Jim’s frown turned into a smile. He stood up (cracking his back in the process. That beside cabinet actually was uncomfortable) and settled beside Spock, lying on his back at his left. Now that he was sobre this time round, he was far more aware of his arm touching Spock’s. The sound of each other’s breaths. How close they were. 

He would have said something, but he didn’t think there was anything to say. Instead, he closed his eyes, smiling, feeling warmer than he did before, and easily fell asleep. 

They both slept well that night.


	3. Spock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like a habit is forming.

Spock couldn’t remember a life without James T. Kirk. 

It was as if he’d infiltrated his memories. It was as if his past were a backdrop, and Jim was the leading star of the show. 

Spock wasn’t sure how he felt about this. It was overwhelming- as Jim had already witnessed- but what he mostly wasn’t sure about was how to deal with it. Should he confront the matter? Or should he perhaps conceal it? Make it unclear, the strength of his feelings for Jim? He did not want to put their careers in jeopardy.

Indeed, he wasn’t sure if romantic relationships between captain and first officer were prohibited. He would have to research the matter.

Spock was curious to investigate these feelings for Jim, which he’d gathered were almost certainly romantic. Or at least, in many ways they were. That was what puzzled Spock the most; his feelings for Jim were a mixture of many things, and far more complicated than the descriptions of ‘romance’ he’d been reading about. Devotion was the closest he could come to, when describing his feelings accurately.

He’d woken up that morning (having actually fully slept, rather than meditated) to Jim’s warm, deep breaths settling on his neck. Jim wasn’t snoring at that moment, although he was accustomed to do so. Spock wondered if he knew of this, or not.

Besides, sleeping beside him was becoming something of which he was particularly fond. Knowing that someone was there, and wanted to be there gave him an immense sense of comfort- one that he had not experienced since he was a child, when his mother would sit beside his bed when he’d had nightmares.

Now it was 11:02pm and he’d spent the entire day studying (apart from a swift respite to test Uhura on her Vulcan, which was excellent) for his set of tests the next day; he was specialising in becoming a science officer, and so all his exams were science based. Jim’s command and tactics exams were today. 

Spock and Jim had decided quite early that they would make an excellent captain and first officer together, and had since then been working together in the classes they shared. However, these exam results would define whether they qualified to train for these higher ranks; most students would graduate in their area of expertise, then climb the ranks. However, every year, the academy selected the most exemplary of their students to train to become captains, first officers or lieutenants straight off, before they even stepped foot on a starship. Only the ones with the highest results throughout their academy career could graduate with any of these ranks.

Naturally, Spock and Jim were two of these exemplary students. 

Jim had asked if he could come by after his tests were over. Spock said that, as ever, he welcomed his company.

Spock waited patiently, in the meantime checking his emails at his desk. His mother had messaged him. Now that his parents had returned to Vulcan, she would be emailing him once a week, out of habit.

_My dearest Spock,_  
 _I hope your tests go well tomorrow. I am certain you will tell me I do not need to hope, since you will already be fully prepared for them, as you always are. But as your mother I do tend to get nervous on your behalf for such things. Silly, I know._  
 _Make sure you’re sleeping properly, too. A relaxed mind is just as important as a sharp one. Is it cold in San Francisco at the moment?_  
 _How are your friends? How is James Kirk?_  
 _With love, as ever,_  
 _Your mother._

Spock frowned. This was a typical email from his mother- filled with illogical concerns over whether he was warm enough, or looking after himself sufficiently- all except for the last two questions.

She would sometimes ask after his friends- but never had she asked after Jim separately. As if he were different from his other friends. 

He often forgot how perceptive his mother was.

Three knocks at the door interrupted his thoughts. A familiar sound.

“Come in.”

And suddenly, there he was in person. His hair was characteristically messy, but not in an unattractive way. He was wearing his red, Starfleet academy uniform. It suited him very well. He closed the door behind him and gave a long sigh.

“That could not have been more boring.”

“The fact that it was boring rather than difficult gives credit to your intelligence.’

Jim dropped his books and PADD on Spock’s desk. “Three three hour exams. In one day. I don’t know anyone couldn’t find that boring.” He flopped face first onto Spock’s bed and groaned wearily.

It was true that Jim was a man who craved adventure and excitement. A day of exams was enough to make him over-dramatically collapse in distaste onto his bed. 

Jim gave an unexpected giggle, as he turned onto his back. 

“Ahh, sorry. I bumped into Bones today-” Jim’s sentence was interrupted by another laugh, “-after his exam, and, Spock, I’m telling you, this is Bones, and I have never seen him so grumpy.”

Spock didn’t reply. He tried to think of how this could be amusing. He assumed it may be because Doctor McCoy was always ‘grumpy’ and the notion that he become even more so was surprising. Jim always found something humorous in McCoy’s demeanour, something which Spock did not understand. But he admired that in Jim- that he could see the best in everyone. 

Spock was grateful that he saw the best in him. 

Jim yawned.

“It is logical that you should be tired after such a strenuous day.”

“Yeah,” Jim replied, though it sounded as if he wanted to say something else. “I was hoping we could chat… you know, before I fall asleep. Which I can feel happening pretty soon.”

So, he did intend to stay. This was an interesting development.

Jim shuffled up to the left of the bed. “There’s space,” he said, repeating Spock’s words from the night before, this time with a crooked smile that Spock recognised as being flirtatious. He’d seen him smile like that before. But it had never been directed at him till now. 

Spock wasn’t so hesitant as he was before, when he lay beside Jim, their arms touching. He lay his hands on his stomach. 

“I was afraid that you were perturbed by my suggestion last night.”

Jim turned his head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Spock didn’t turn his head. He looked at the wall in front of him. “When I suggested that you stay over.”

“Oh, right,” Jim replied. “No, I wasn’t. I mean, I’m pretty overwhelmed by all of this, but perturbed, no. I like this.” Jim closed his eyes, his forehead slightly wrinkled. “Look, I’m just going to go right ahead and say it, because I don’t think there’s any point dancing around it. And I feel like I’m going to fall asleep any minute… I like you. Just to clarify. As in, more than a friend.” Jim frowned, his eyes still closed. His breathing was slowing. “As in, I don’t really know what’s going on but I like you a hell of a lot more than friends… and I’m kinda confused.”

Spock was looking at him now. His eyes were closed but he could see the tension in his face. He could see the slight stubble where he’d not had time to shave that morning. His lips ever so slightly pouted and brows pulled together in thought. His slow breathing, the rise and fall of his chest. His head lulling to the side, his sandy hair rustling as it did. He was exhausted; he’d been studying beyond his capacity. He was staying awake to hear Spock’s answer.

He knew Jim couldn’t see him, but he looked at him nonetheless. 

“I… return such feelings.”

Jim gave a lazy smile and let himself drop into sleep. 

Spock could see this would become a pattern.

He leaned over to turn his light off, but he couldn’t sleep. He’d slept so much the night before that he didn’t need to- but he also couldn’t help but be fascinated by Jim as he slept, watching him in the dark. 

It was at 2am that he found himself lying on his side, facing Jim. Jim had his back to the wall, and was facing Spock; their faces were inches away. Jim’s lips were slightly parted. Spock could hear his heart from their small distance. He had heightened, Vulcan hearing, and Jim had a strong heart. His heartbeat was rising slightly- he was coming out of a sleep cycle. He knew that Jim would not make the first move- not after how he’d behaved the night before. An unfamiliar sensation, guilt, crept through him- he had never broken down like that before. And Jim was there to witness it. He was most likely thinking that Spock could not deal with anymore external influence on his emotions, and was carefully avoiding overwhelming him.

So he would have to make the first move.

And now was a good a time as any.

“Jim,” he whispered.

Jim didn’t reply for a moment, before releasing a soft, drousy, “Hmmm?”

Spock knew he’d fall asleep again unless he didn’t do it now. And he was so curious, that he was eager to try it now, too. He inched his face closer, swallowing nervously. 

“I’m going to kiss you, now.” 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to warn him first, but considering how Jim was barely awake, he figured he might have appreciated it. 

He leaned in, closing the tiny gap, and before Jim could summon a reply, he gently, hesitantly, kissed his bottom lip.

Spock had anticipated that that was all it would be, but to his surprise, Jim kissed back; it was small, warm, soft. Brief, but it was enough spread an increasingly familiar heat through Spock’s chest, and this time it burned more than usual. He could feel Jim’s breath as he pulled away. For a first (human) kiss, it was certainly pleasant. He could see why humans enjoyed it so much.

He suspected that Jim would have continued if he’d had the energy. Instead, he shuffled so that his forehead and nose touched Spock’s, and mumbled, “We should do this more often,” before falling back to sleep. 

Spock didn’t sleep well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short. I'll post the next chapter tonight, or tomorrow maybe. :)


	4. Kirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim realises now why Spock never shakes hands...

Jim woke up to the sensation of Spock carefully moving away from him. It must’ve been time for him to get up; he could sense the light in the room from behind his closed eyes. The air around him was colder without Spock lying next to him.

“Don’t think I’m letting you get away that easy,” he said through a smile, opening his eyes. He had to wince through the light. Spock was leaning on his knee on the bed, and had been slowly edging away from him. 

“I was endeavouring to let you sleep,” he replied evenly. He saw Jim’s outstretched arm, his head slightly tilted in thought, weighing up whether he had the time to lie back down beside him. 

Jim’s smile spread further. That head tilt. How was it that every one of his mannerisms had now become so precious for him to see? How was it that he noticed new ones every day? 

“What time is it?”

“7:03am.” 

“Specific,” Jim said. “And early. What time’s your exam?”

“9:00am.” Spock frowned slightly in thought. “I believe I can risk losing a few minutes.”

“Two whole hours, you’ve got plenty of time,” he replied with a drousy smile. He felt warm, happy, cosy. Like he’d slept unbelievably well. Spock settled back beside him, so they were face to face. “Sleep well?”

Spock blinked, as if he had to consider his answer to this, as if it weren’t that easy. “No,” he replied simply.

“Oh,” Jim replied, equally simply. “How come?”

It was somehow satisfying, watching Spock trying to work out what to say next, weighing up his words like they were of the utmost importance. Like they mattered more than they usually did. Like it was more difficult to know what to say, now that the dynamic between them had changed so much. It was endearing. The little crease between his brow reappeared.

“My mind was otherwise preoccupied.”

The corner of Jim’s mouth crept into a crooked smile. “Work?” he asked, hoping he already knew the answer.

“No.” Spock thought. “It was preoccupied with matters which lay directly in front of me.”

Jim chuckled, and bit his lip. He couldn’t help but notice Spock’s gaze flitting quickly to his lips as he did so, then back to his eyes again. “Are you flirting with me?”

Spock looked confused, surprised even. That crease in his brow, his innocent, wide eyes. Jim chuckled again. He really was too cute. “I know nothing about ‘flirting’, so I would not know.”

“You’re totally flirting with me, Spock. It’s all about being allusive, innuendoes, that sort of thing.”

Spock thought back to his comment, as if trying to work out what part of it was flirtatious. “Then, I suppose, your logic is sound.”

Jim’s smile grew. He realised he probably looked like a dork, but he honestly didn’t care. Not even a little bit. ‘Cause they were both dorks. He couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking at him. 

Because, all his life, he’d always been into girls. He’d always been pretty forward, flirtatious, he’d been around the block a few times. That wasn’t to say he regretted it. He’d had a few girlfriends, some long lasting relationships, he’d even thought he’d end up marrying this one girl he’d gone out with a long time ago. He might have been a romancer and had some (many) one night stands, but honestly- honestly, what few people knew was that the one thing he’d dreamt of was to find someone he wanted to spend of his life with. 

As soon as he’d dedicated himself to captaincy, he thought that was out of the window- a life of loneliness, and sad one nighters, craving feeling at least some intimacy. 

Who knew that the person who lay in front of him now fitted into his dream so perfectly?

And who knew that this would actually be one of the best moments of his life? Amongst the other events during his life time, one might say it was pretty nondescript, but to Jim it wasn't. It was happy, peaceful, full of promise.

“Jim?” Spock asked, in a low, uncertain voice. 

“Hey.”

“What would you say… is now the status of our relationship?”

He looked down. He hadn’t even thought about that properly. “I… honestly hadn’t thought about that. I dunno. I mean… our feelings are clearly mutual, so… I suppose, technically, we’re going out.”

Spock’s lips parted slightly. He looked like he was working out some impossible equation in his head without a calculator. Hell, when would Spock ever need a calculator? “… ‘going out.’”

“Yeah. I mean, if that’s ok with you.” There was so much he wasn’t considering here, as per usual. Always one step too far ahead. He internally kicked himself. “Do you think they’d ever let us work together? Is there a rule against it or something?”

“None that I have found. I have checked.”

Jim smiled in disbelief. “You’ve checked?”

Spock looked confused, as if he’d asked a ridiculously stupid question. He knew that Vulcans weren’t fans of repetition. “Yes.”

Jim chuckled. “It might be kinda frowned upon, though.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied. “Although captain Pike has already expressed his interest in us working together in the future. I cannot imagine him changing his mind, because we are engaged in a romantic relationship.”

Jim lifted his head off the pillow. “What? He said that? He actually said that?”

“Yes,” Spock replied evenly. “I spoke with him recently; at first, he suggested I consider captaincy. However, we both agreed that my personality and expertise are more indicative of being a first officer. He also noticed our compatibility, and expressed that if we achieved the ranks of captain and first officer before we graduate, then there is a strong likelihood that we should work together, considering our already extensive experience together.”

Jim looked at him, head up, mouth slightly parted. “He said that?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Spock said, more warmly. He obviously read, understood the surprise and delight in his expression. 

“I mean, I thought that it was a long shot. Putting two rookies in command of a starship.”

“Pike clearly has faith in our abilities.”

Jim leaned in towards him, propped up on his elbow. Spock looked up at him, lying on his back. A warmth was radiating from his chest, throughout his whole body.

Yep. This was definitely up there in the top 3 best moments of his life.

“ _Spock_ ,” he said quietly, although the excitement in his voice was clear. He sounded almost like a child. “This is really good news.”

“I agree,” he replied, in an equally quiet voice. He didn’t break Jim’s gaze. Jim felt the nerves kick in. 

_Oh, man._ It was so different to how he’d felt before, with anyone else. He felt like he could be entirely himself around Spock. That made him even more nervous, somehow.

_Just do it, what are you waiting for?_

He was just looking at him. It wasn’t often that they weren’t talking. Spock liked to tease Jim that he talked a lot, but actually Spock was just as bad, if the subject matter was right. But right now, he wasn’t saying anything. There was an air of expectancy. Something drawing them closer.

“Spock.”

“Yes, Jim.” 

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Jim could tell Spock was trying hard to keep a stoic expression. He was pretty satisfied- smug, even- about this reaction. “I… have no complaint.”

Jim couldn’t hold back the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he leaned down and kissed him. Spock replied, tilting his head up slightly. Like last night’s, it was soft, a little hesitant. Exciting. Jim pulled away slightly, so their lips just brushed. He caressed Spock’s face with his left hand and kissed his bottom lip. 

It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The electricity, the nerves, discovering new things about someone you thought you knew- like how cool their skin was. 

Like- 

_Damn this guy’s a good kisser._

Like- 

_Woah, he’s not holding back as much as I though he would,_ when their tongues met. 

Like-

 _This might actually be the best moment of my life._

Just as his hand slid down to his waist, he pulled away. He was the kind of guy who wasn't adverse to going from meeting a girl, then a couple of hours later following her to her bedroom. But this was so, _so_ different. He wanted to savour every moment, take it slowly, experience every new thing to it’s fullest. And it didn't even have to be said that Spock was part Vulcan, and there was only so much Jim imagined he'd actually want to _do_. But _God_ , did Jim love making Spock look that pensive. And a little ruffled.

“You should probably start getting ready,” he whispered.

Spock looked into Jim’s eyes, as if his reply were in them somewhere. A moment later, he replied. “Yes, I suppose I should.”

Jim smiled, sitting up and stretching. “Ok. I’ll leave you to it, then. And maybe, I dunno, if you want to, you could come over to mine this time? Unless you’d like some time to yourself, which I’d get-”

“My exams finish at 9:00pm,” Spock replied. “I would very much like to see you afterwards.”

Jim looked down, and he could a dorky grin spread on his face. “Cool.”

_Am I blushing? Oh my God, get a grip, Kirk._

He slid off the bed, and stretched again, arching his back and raising his arms. He picked up his books, and Spock went to open the door for him. He held it open; no one was in the corridor yet (it was definitely too early for most students to be awake) but Jim couldn’t risk it. He gently closed the door again, Spock’s hand still on the handle. Spock frowned.

“I know you don’t need it and Vulcans don’t believe in luck, but-” he reached up and gave Spock a swift, gentle kiss. By Spock’s expression, anyone else would say he looked just ask calm and controlled as usual- but Jim could see the surprise in his eyes, the light green blush. Those minute differences that made his heart jitter. “-good luck.”

Spock opened the door again with a contemplative, furrowed brow, and Jim slipped out with a cheeky grin to himself.

_I just made Spock blush._

As he closed the door behind him, he wanted to do that little heel kick thing that guys did in old movies, when they got the girl. He’d found something he thought he’d never find, because he was such a sucker for the one night stands, and because he’d dedicated himself to a future of captaincy. He’d found it, that thing that people wrote songs about, wrote movies about. He’d found them, that one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, that one person who he had a montage of memories of, rushing into his mind whenever he thought about him.

He couldn’t stop smiling like a goddamn idiot. He wanted to run, scream and laugh all at once.

Problem was, he was so damn tired.

 _Why am I so tired at the moment?_ He thought, though he knew the answer. He’d clearly not been sleeping that deeply with Spock around, because it was still a new, exciting thing that he was even there when he slept. And he’d been studying non stop. He wasn't the type to stop and take a break before he run himself down completely.

He drifted by students without noticing them. He wondered into his dorm without realising the time had passed by. He pulled himself into his pyjamas, the memory of Spock’s lips on his, and collapsed under the covers. He was asleep in minutes. 

He woke up, tangled up in his bedsheets, legs sticking out over the edge. He sat up abruptly with a groan, aware that he’d overslept.

That would be an overstatement. He squinted at his bedside clock. It was 5:13pm.

“God,” he drawled. He’d slept for nine hours. He wasn’t going to sleep well tonight. 

A tingle of warmth buzzed in his chest, when realised he might not have to.

And then he heard the dulcet tones of Doctor McCoy’s complaints down the corridor- he realised that that was why he’d woken up in the first place.

He barged in without knocking.

“Jim, I need a drink, you coming with?” He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He lifted a disdainful eyebrow and wrinkled his nose, as if the sight of Jim disgusted him. “Dear God, man, you look like you’ve only just woken up.”

“That’s cause I have,” he replied, ruffling his hair groggily. “I didn’t sleep much this past week.”

Bones shook his head. “If I were actually your doctor I’d’ve sent you to bed, confiscated your books and you’d have had to have listened to me. Except you wouldn’t have anway, would you.” 

“No chance,” Jim chuckled. “Look, I’d love to go for a drink, but I think I’m gonna have a night in.”

“Yeah, looks like,” Bones grumbled. 

“I’ll go with you tomorrow, though. Oh, hey wait, I actually…” Jim bent over the edge of the bed, and pulled out a box. It had a bottle of Jacks in it. “I do have something here, if you wanna knock a couple back with me. Order a pizza.”

Bones gave a gravelly sigh in contemplation. “Fine. But that stuff’s a pile of crap.”

“Whatever. I wanna catch up with you anyway, I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Not since Spock pulled that hissy fit.” Jim didn’t reply. He just opened the bottle and handed it to Bones. He didn’t ask what the ‘hissy fit’ was about. “He’s a whole bag of crazy.”

“You’re right about that,” Jim replied. He wasn’t completely lying; he found Spock incomprehensible a lot of the time. 

He wondered if he should tell him. He wanted to ask him his opinion. Bones was his best friend and he always asked for his opinion- except now he was hesitant. He played with the duvet, rubbing the sheets between his index and thumb.

“Bones?”

“Yeah.” He looked at Jim. “Oh, what is it now? Which poor girl’s heart have you broken this time,” he muttered, taking a swig.

“No, no it’s not like that…”

“Hell it isn’t,” Bones spat. “I’ve seen that expression before. You’re about to ask me for relationship advice.”

Jim sighed in frustration, his head lolling back and leaning against the wall. To ask and be subjected to mockery and scorn? Or not to ask, and feel like he was lying to his best friend? “Fine, I wont ask then. Just wanted to ask my friend’s opinion on something that’s important to me, but, you know, if you don’t wanna help, I can just take this right back…” he said, hand inching towards the bottle of Jacks. Bones moved it away.

“Fine. Shoot.”

Jim sighed again. “OK. Well, there is someone-”

“Hmmm,” Bones grumbled. “Knew it. Anyway, _continue,_ ” he added, waving the bottle in his direction.

Jim glared at him. “ _Anyway,_ we both like each other and all that, but there’s a chance that we might be working together in the future. And we don’t wanna jeopardise that. But…” Jim frowned as he grappled the air for the words. He gave up and sighed.“He makes me happy, Bones. I mean, it’s different to anything else I’ve ever-”

“He?” Bones sputtered on his drink, glaring at him incredulously. After a moment he shrugged. “Never took you for a man who’d swing both ways.”

“Neither,” Jim murmured. 

Then Bones froze, bottle tipped. He lowered the bottle, and turned to him slowly.

“Goddammit, Jim, don’t tell me you’re talking about who I’m thinking you’re talking about.”

“… depends on who you’re thinking I’m talking about.”

“Oh my God Jim,” Bones moaned, his head rolling back. “My God. You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What? _What_?” Jim replied defensively.

“It means you’re gonna take his side every time him and I get in an argument.” He casually took another swig from the bottle. Jim laughed in relief. He knew Bones wouldn’t actually be bothered. A bit grossed out, sure. Bones wasn’t a romantic man. The idea of him actually being against it was unthinkable. 

Bones could feel Jim surveying him. He turned to him, rolling his eyes. “Listen, you knucklehead, it wont make a _blind_ bit of difference. You two are already inseparable as it is, I cant see how you being a couple would make it any less suitable to working together. It’s a different dynamic, sure, but you know that neither of you would ever let that part of it enter your work. Right?”

“Right,” he replied, head against the wall.

“That bond that you guys had before is still there, that thing that makes you two tick together. That’s still there, so you’ll both be fine. Whatever else goes on top of that, doesn’t have anything to do with your work. Right?”

“Right.”

“Right. Now tell me how your exams went.”

And that was the end of that. That’s what Jim loved so much about Bones- it seemed like he overreacted to most things, but in reality not much actually phased him. They spent the next few hours chatting about random stuff, most of it Jim wouldn’t remember. Like Bones complaining about his exam questions, about what the cafeteria was giving them for dinner. Jim tried to hint towards Bones’ relationship with Christine Chapel; she was training to be a nurse, so they shared a lot of lectures. Bones didn’t show his affection well, but Jim had a feeling he might have a thing for her.

Of course, he deflected the questions with a “goddammit” and “you’re a fool, Jim”. 

After two pizzas and a half empty bottle of Jacks, Jim looked at his watch. Twenty to nine. “Listen, man, this is great, and we should definitely hang out tomorrow, but I… kinda have something planned.”

“I thought you were having a night in,” he replied, his voice a little slurred. He winced. “Oh, right, that kinda night in. I’ll leave you two to it. Damn, I wish you’d never told me, now I can’t get the image out of my head.”

“We’re just hanging out, Ok?” Jim replied, standing up and stretching.

“Yeah, well, just spare me the details. I’m not good with couples.”

“See you tomorrow,” Jim replied with an eye-roll and a smile.

Bones waved lazily, before leaving. 

Jim stood in his room, which was suddenly very quiet. He surveyed it, crossing his arms. It wasn’t messy, but he thought he should do some tidying up in these last few minutes. He threw on some clean clothes and made his bed.

There was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

“Jim, may I come in?”

He was bang on time, as per usual. Jim glanced in the mirror quickly, and ruffled his hair into shape. He still had some pretty bad bed hair, but it’d do. ”Yeah, come in.”

Spock was in his red Starfleet suit. He carefully placed his PADD and books on Jim’s desk, which was by the door.

“How were they?”

Spock looked tired, and a little grumpy. Jim had never understood why people thought Vulcan's were like robots. Spock could be remarkably expressive. “As I predicted, I had no difficulty with the exams, but they certainly were not pleasant.”

“Long day, right,” Jim replied, stepping towards him, with his head down. He really did feel like a teenage boy, shy and nervous. 

“Indeed. Although the length of the day remains the same as any other Earth day, I agree with the sentiment attached to such colloquialism.”

Jim snorted. “Soon as I got back here, I slept for another nine hours. Crazy.”

He looked up at him, head still bowed, and a little tilted to the side. 

It hadn’t been long since he’d last seen him, but he craved absorbing the sight of his dark, warm eyes. His sharp cheekbones, strong chin. The slight tilt of his head. The fierceness in his expression, which he couldn’t help but find damn cute. His stiff bottom lip, and the way it loosened when he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.

Or when he wanted to kiss him. He'd discovered that recently.

He felt like he should say something. It had always been his job to do the whole human social interaction thing.

“I believe it is customary to welcome romantic partners with a kiss.” Jim blinked in shock. He wasn’t expecting that. “Is it not?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “yeah it is. I guess.”

Why was it, he couldn’t be smooth and flirtatious with Spock? Instead he replied with short answers, like he’d forgotten how to speak altogether. All words left his mind when Spock leant in- without the tentativeness from before- and kissed him once. Short. Sweet. Left Jim with a craving for more.

But he didn’t want to ruin this. He couldn’t ruin this.

Then again, Spock was making way too many of the first moves, here. 

The distance between them was negligible, and Spock was looking down at him with the most intense look, so that all Jim really wanted to do was pull him towards the bed and do things that would mess up his stupid Vulcan hair cut.

But... he _really_ didn’t want to ruin this.

“Spock,” Jim said in a choked whisper. He cleared his throat again. “Uh, I realise I haven’t exactly been taking your Vulcan sensibilities into perspective, with all this,” Spock frowned a little. What did that frown mean? “And I know that, you know, kissing human style is a little bit out there for Vulcans, well, a lot out there for Vulcans, so… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you to feel you should do things because you think you should.”

_Right. That makes sense, right?_

“You misunderstand,” he replied with a soft, low voice. “I choose to kiss you because I desire it. And… because I hope that you do, too.”

“No, yeah, I do,” Jim replied a little too quickly. Spock raised an eyebrow. _God, get a grip_. “It’s just… we’ve been doing human stuff, and I don’t want this relationship to be outbalanced. If you see what I’m saying.”

“I do,” Spock replied. He pursed his lips slightly, and frowned, looking puzzled. “Have I given the impression that I do not wish to engage in-”

“No, no, it’s not that, guh-” Jim interrupted, dipping his head in frustration. He looked back up at Spock apologetically. He still looked puzzled. “It’s not that, not at all I- just don’t want to screw this up. What we have is different to anything I’ve ever experienced, and I wanna make sure I’m doing it right, cause it’s you, and you’re important.”

_Crap. Said too much._

Spock’s frown disappeared.

“It is as you said, Jim. I am only half Vulcan.”

“That’s true,” Jim laughed, remembering his words. Maybe he should listen to his own advice, and stop worrying. “But you don’t tend to tell people when you’re uncomfortable with something.”

Spock was looking into his eyes intensely again. Jim didn’t know how to look away. How could people think he had cold eyes? “I am not uncomfortable.”

There was a moment of silence. Except Jim could feel his heart thudding his chest. 

_Shut up, heart. I'm trying to work, here._

“You have a half empty bottle of bourbon on your bedside table.”

He hadn’t looked away. He must have noticed it when he came in. Jim blinked in surprise at the sudden change in subject and looked at his feet. “Oh, yeah. Bones came round for a drink.”

“Half a bottle.”

“Yep, you know Bones.”

“Hmmm,” Spock replied with a raised eyebrow, as if he knew Bones all too well. He looked down and stepped around Jim. As soon as he was behind him, Jim closed his eyes and exhaled.

_Damn, why does everything have to be so intense with him?_

He turned round to find Spock sitting on his bed. He always sat with amazing posture. He assumed it had been drilled into him when he was a student on Vulcan. Jim realised he was just standing there, looking. So he went to sit beside him on Spock’s right. He sat sideways, facing him.

“You said that you were afraid you were not considering my Vulcan upbringing enough.” He looked at Jim side on, and paused, before shuffling to assume the same sitting position Jim had, so that he could face him. “There is a Vulcan equivalent to human kissing.”

Jim’s gaze drifted to Spock’s hands. They were resting on his knees, a sign of nerves. But also anticipation.

Oh. Well that makes a lot of sense, in hindsight. He realised now exactly why Spock would never shake anyone’s hand. He knew Vulcan hands were sensitive but… wow.

Jim inched a little closer, stretching out a hand towards Spock’s right hand. “May I?”

Spock gave a small nod. Jim bit his lip uncertainly, as he settled his left hand over Spock’s right. The tips of his fingers met with Spock’s, and they raised their hands together, until their palms touched. Jim let his hand rest there, delicately. His hand was cool. His skin must feel insanely hot to Spock. Their hands were roughly the same size, except Spock’s were marginally larger, slender.

He looked at Spock for a reaction; his features could be so surprisingly soft, sometimes. He was looking at their palms. His hand formed a Vulcan salute, and Jim mimicked.

“You’re a lot better at human kissing than I am at Vulcan kissing. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“There is no reason why you should,” he said softly. Not the answer he was hoping for. “Vulcans have shrouded such traditions in secrecy to outside species.” 

Jim began to stroke Spock’s thumb with his. Spock swallowed. 

“So… are there different levels to this? I mean, does this qualify as a peck on the cheek? Or, I dunno, French kissing?”

Spock frowned at the last statement. Jim realised that he would have no idea what French kissing was. He moved his hand, and offered his index and middle finger. Jim replied with the same hand gesture, his fingertips resting on the back of Spock's fingers. “This is a gesture seen between partners, when in public. As a welcome, or goodbye, for example.” He returned to the Vulcan salute, and Jim copied him. “This may be seen as inappropriate in public, by some.”

A smile tugged at Jim’s mouth. He was enjoying this lesson. His fingers pushed through Spock’s Vulcan salute, lacing with his. Spock tensed up. “And, what does this mean?” he asked innocently. He might be a bit lost as to the whole Vulcan kissing, but he wasn’t completely clueless.

His head was slightly tilted up, but he was still looking at their linked hands. “This would be very inappropriate in public.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Jim’s mouth. Spock didn’t seem as cool as he did a few minutes ago, especially now that he was stroking his thumb again. His jaw was tight. 

_The things I could do with this._

Jim shuffled closer, so their knees were touching. His heart was pounding. He could see Spock’s reaction to their linked hands, and was loving it. Holding back wasn’t in his mind right now. He looked at their hands, then back to Spock.

“May I try something? Say if I’m going too far.”

Spock looked at him. He looked nervous. Not surprising, considering that he probably knew what Jim was about to do, with the whole Vulcan touch telepathy; he slowly- teasingly- kissed the knuckle of Spock’s index finger.

Jim looked to see his mouth drop slightly, as he gently kissed each of his knuckles, one by one. He could see Spock’s walls falling down, and God was it fun. 

“So. I’m guessing this is pretty inappropriate, then.” 

“Wildly,” he replied quickly. 

Jim couldn’t help but grin. He never expected kissing someone’s hand to be so satisfying. Jim made an educated guess- he was good at those- and went with kissing the tip of his pinky finger next. Spock didn’t look away. His body was tense and he was doing that intense glare thing again. Jim was having way too much fun with this.

“Well,” he said quietly, “I guess we’ll just have to keep this between me and you, then.” 

Spock swallowed. His breathing was beginning to sound uneven now, as Jim made his way to his third finger. 

“Remember, just tell me if I’m stepping out of line,” he said, looking at him for an answer. Spock didn’t say anything. He only looked back at Jim with those dark, intense eyes, then away again.

That was his answer.

Jim kissed his middle finger now. He let his tongue touch the tip of the finger this time. Spock looked away, staring intensely in the other direction. He held his breath. The satisfaction and enthrallment that was running through Jim’s body was immense. Seeing Spock so close to letting his guard down, because of him (and for good reasons, too) was too satisfying. He wanted to kiss him. Like, human kiss him. But the anticipation, the teasing was so fun, too. He was curious to find out how far he could go, what might happen. There was so much to learn about Spock. 

He had no idea that kissing his hand could have such an effect. He would bear this in mind for the future.

In the years that he had known Spock, called him his best friend, never had he imagined himself kissing him. Never had he imagined making him make the expressions he was showing right now. And never had he imagined that he’d take so much pleasure from it.

He finally reached his index finger. He didn’t so much kiss it, as suck on it lightly, his tongue just grazing it. 

“Jim,” he said through a strained voice.

He looked up, but before he could react, Spock was already kissing him- mouth to mouth, and passionately too- and Jim fell backwards onto the bed, their hands still linked. His hand rose instinctively to the side of Spock’s face, roughing up his hair, pressing their lips together. He raised his knee, his thigh grazing Spock’s hip. All of a sudden Spock was there, on top of him, and he couldn’t get enough of him. Jim wanted to kiss him like this forever without having to pull away. But he’d been so taken aback by the gesture that he had to catch his breath.

“Oh my God,” was all he could say, panting. Spock was looking down at him, cradling his face, with strangely stern yet warm eyes. 

“That did escalate rather quickly.”

Jim laughed. It felt good, laughing with Spock in his arms like this. “Oh my _God_ Spock,” he repeated. “I’m gonna have to remember that trick. I didn’t realise I would be that good first off.”

Spock exhaled, and closed his eyes. He grazed his lips against Jim’s, whose eyes fluttered closed, head tilted up. His voice was low, and made Jim’s lips tickle with his breath. “You do not realise- the intensity with which you just kissed me.”

Jim laughed. He could feel his stomach judder against Spock’s. He arched his back involuntarily, and bit Spock’s lip tenderly. Spock exhaled. 

“I think I might have an idea,” Jim murmured. “Seems we’re… both good at the whole, Vulcan/Earth kissing thing.”

“Indeed,” he replied, beginning to kiss along his jaw line, and down to his neck. Jim’s hand instinctively slid down his back, and he tilted his head to the side as Spock kissed along his neck. 

Jim sighed. “Oh my _God_ , Spock,” he repeated. 

_What is_ happening _here?_

This was more than he’d ever imagined they’d be doing tonight. This was more than he'd ever imagined doing with Spock at all, until the day before. He hadn’t realised Spock was this eager. Considering that, and the feeling of his lips on his neck, he was finding it impossible to control certain parts of his body doing certain inconspicuous things. Which Spock would definitely have noticed by now, but it wasn’t stopping him, as he lightly bit his neck. 

“Where… how did you learn all this?” he had to ask. He was so good at all of it, he felt like he was showing him up slightly. 

“I researched it.”

Jim laughed, head rolling back. Spock continued to kiss his neck back up to his jawline. “You researched it?”

“Yes.”

He laughed again. 

“Though much of it is instinct,” he added, his hand sliding down to his chest. Their other hands were still linked. He kissed his lips lightly; and yet Jim could feel so much from it. It spoke louder than words ever could. Maybe they should just resort to kissing all the time, instead. That was a sacrifice he could make.

Spock looked down at him, examining his features. He brushed some of his hair out of his face. Jim cupped Spock’s face again, looking back at him. 

Spock looked like he’d just found the answers to all the universe in Jim’s face. His mouth parted slightly, like he was about to speak. The crease between his brow reappeared. He looked soft. Confused. Childlike, almost. 

Jim didn’t realise, but he was conveying a pretty similar expression. 

He stroked Spock’s cheek with his thumb. His eyes were so dark, so enticing, so caring, he thought that if he looked into them too long he might fall away from everything. That everything about them would disappear. It basically already had; this moment was theirs. They were all that existed. The deep, even breaths passing between them. Their memorising the feel of their lips. The warm, growing realisation that they belonged together.

That they were devoted to each other. 

Spock closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against Jim’s. “Jim…” he paused, and never finished his sentence. He exhaled in frustration. “Jim, I… You…”

“I know, Spock,” he whispered. “Me too.”

Jim sighed. This was all happening so quickly. He rolled Spock over to his side, and cupped their linked hands with his other. There was no one else he wanted to be with. No one else he could imagine telling his deepest, darkest secrets to. And he had plenty of those.

He wanted Spock to be part of his story- past, and present.

There was so much he’d hidden, so much pain that had poisoned his soul, which he’d told no one about. But he wanted to tell Spock.

He wasn’t ready yet, though. 

“What’s it like on Vulcan?”

Spock looked at him like a human. He didn’t’ seem perturbed by the sudden change in subject. He reached with his other hand and moved Jim’s hair out of his face. It was a useless task, since it would inevitably fall into his forehead again. But he obviously enjoyed it. “It is hot, and dry. Inhabited mostly by dangerous, feral beasts, save my people. It is a vast desert, and even the buildings look like part of the landscape.” 

Jim closed his eyes, listening to his voice.

“There are few tall buildings in my city, Shi’Kahr. They are mostly cut out from the rocks which create our landscape. It is quiet and civilised, predictable and monotonous. My family live on the edge of the city. As a child I used to go to school at the centre of the city. I would often come home, with a bloody lip, looking at the sky as I walked. Wondering if perhaps I belonged more on Earth.

“The sky is orange, and there are no clouds; the atmosphere is too dry. Our two suns are visible at sunset, and once they have dipped beneath the horizon, the desert becomes cold, but not dark. The sky is always clear, and the stars always shine. The constellations are entirely different from Vulcan, as you know.” He was still playing with his hair. “I have always admired the stars. Until now, I admired them merely scientifically, and as a child I yearned to explore them. But now I have learned to see them for their beauty…”

Spock spoke like this for some time, until he became too tired, and fell asleep. Jim doubted he’d realised he was so tired. He closed his eyes, though he knew he wouldn’t sleep.


	5. Spock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The complexities of Vulcan emotions...

Predictably, rumours spread throughout campus.

Jim was somewhat famous among the cadets and lecturers for being an all round outstanding, charismatic and social student. By lecturers he was known as the best in the class. By younger students, he was known as the approachable senior cadet. By all other students, he was a friend- and also a ‘heartbreaker’, because of his good looks. But now, there were rumours that his inseparable friend was a little more than a friend. How such rumours had spread, Spock did not know, and he did not question it. He knew it was based on frivolities and demand for social drama, rather than actual evidence. 

“There are rumours? What? How?” Jim asked inconspicuously, with a blank expression. He didn’t want to let on to the crowd around him that he was stressed, though it was evident in his voice. Spock walked along side him, hands behind his back.

“There’ve been rumours for months, Jim, everyone just worked it out before you two dumbasses did.” McCoy rolled his eyes, walking along Jim’s other side. Jim had informed Spock that McCoy had worked out that their relationship had raised in status; he had been careless in forgetting that McCoy could be surprisingly shrewd. After all, he knew Jim better than most. Other than McCoy, they decided to hide the information from anyone else, in case they incorrectly believed that it affected their professional relationship. In addition, Spock didn’t need to imply his appreciation for privacy in such a matter. 

If he could have chosen anyone to find out about him and Jim, it would not have been McCoy.

“You didn’t tell anyone?”

“’Course I didn’t tell anyone, what do you take me for?” McCoy snarled, shaking his head. “What did you expect anyway? The two of you go everywhere together, of course there are gonna be rumours.”

Spock had noticed cadets acting strangely around them before, speaking in hushed tones and exchanging glances pregnant with the excitement of gossip. However, he had always interpreted such behaviour as being a reaction to seeing the famous James Tiberius Kirk, the prodigy of Starfleet. Now that he saw them whispering among themselves as they made their way to the gym for their physical assessments, he felt a lot more uncomfortable, knowing what they were actually discussing.

Jim repeatedly threw his water bottle in the air and caught it as they walked, and McCoy rambled as he usually did about how dissatisfied he was with his current situation. Jim replied with short answers, such as “mmm” and “uhuh” to placate him, occasionally shooting a weary smile at Spock, who replied with the twitch of an eyebrow.

The first part of the assessment was comprised of three exercises. The first was to make one’s way through a course filled with obstacles as quickly and efficiently as possible, the second was a 10 kilometre run, and the last was close combat. The second part of the assessment would be the next day, where each cadet was individually examined on their personal progress. 

Jim was skilled in many areas, but physical strength was one of his greatest attributes. He enjoyed the sensation of pushing himself further, competing, winning in a battle of hand to hand combat. There was a very human, almost atavistic enjoyment he found in it. 

Spock found the first part of the physical assessment a little boring, and produced few conclusive results on his part, since he had superior strength. 

Nonetheless, he had to take part. And so, he stood in line with the other cadets, wearing the same, grey t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms which had been assigned as their uniform, standing before an obstacle course (Earth military training had changed very little, it seemed). He mimicked the rest of the cadets as they stood in rigid formation, barely listening to the instructions of their commander. 

He was painfully aware of the excitement radiating from Jim, who stood beside him. The palpable anticipation, as he readied himself to launch himself into action.

“See you on the other side,” he whispered, so that only his Vulcan ears could hear. He wore a mischievous grin. Spock struggled to hide the blush which he could feel rising in his cheeks.

There was something about Jim’s competitive nature which he found fascinating.

As soon as they were ordered to set off, Spock went into full concentration mode. He always did, when he had a task at hand. He blinkered his surroundings, passing through the obstacles and that met him, climbing easily over the walls and jumping over the large, water filled gaps in the earth (which had been created to impede their progression through the course) with as much grace and speed as a gazelle. 

(McCoy, however, was lagging behind. His shoe had got stuck in the mud and come off his foot. “Goddammit, this is not what I signed up for.”)

Spock, predictably, made it first to the end, covered in mud and not even out of breath.

Or, at least he thought he’d come first. 

A triumphant, drenched, mud coated Jim Kirk grinned back at him, his white teeth and blue eyes contrasting the dark grey dirt that was drying on his face. He was panting, arms crossed over his chest.

Spock couldn’t hide the surprise in his expression, his eyebrows lifting. He tilted his head to the side. Jim laughed.

“Getting a bit slow there, Spock?”

“Slower than you, it appears,” he replied. He turned to face the other cadets, who weren’t far behind. 

“Bring on the next test. I’ll leave you in the dust,” he grinned, hopping on the spot in excitement.

Spock felt an unfamiliar sensation, encouraging him to smile. He barely held it back. “We shall see about that.”

Jim looked at him with a glint in his sharp, blue eyes, and laughed mischievously. If Spock knew better, he’d say they were flirting.

Jim caught sight of McCoy resignedly and laboriously climb over a wall. He laughed, before rolling his head back in frustration. “We should probably wait for him. He’d kill me if I left him and moved onto the next test and just left him in the mud,” he finished his sentence with another laugh, almost childlike, taking amusement out of McCoy’s inferior physical ability.

Spock considered McCoy’s interest in Jim’s health, and Jim’s current state, covered in mud. McCoy tended to jump to conclusions in such situations. He would most likely angrily rant that Jim would fall ill to Tetanus on seeing him covered in so much mud. Perhaps waiting for him wasn’t a logical choice.

“I do not need to point out, Jim, that you are incredibly dirty.”

That half smile spread across Jim’s face. He turned to look at Spock and wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh, you have no idea, Spock.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in return. “You misunderstand…”

Jim bit his lip and ran back onto the next test. “I know Spock, I know.” Inevitably, Spock found himself running after him.

Naturally, they were far ahead when it came to the second test. Spock ran along Jim’s side, though he knew he could go faster. They were running along the beach, where it was cold and blustery- the sort of weather Spock was not used to, being an inhabitant of Vulcan.

The beach was empty, apart from the occasional civilian. 

“You don’t need to run alongside me, you know,” Jim said between breaths. His sandy hair was pushed back by the speed of his pace and the strength of the wind. 

“I am aware. However, it is logical for me to keep a steady pace, since this is a test of endurance.”

Jim grinned, taking in the insult that he was running steadily. Spock was fully aware that it was this sort of conversation that drove him to push further. 

Jim’s cheeks were flushed. He’d seen him with a similar colour in his cheeks, when he’d kissed him, and he was off his guard. 

He shouldn’t think about that right now.

Somehow, Jim always had a way of surprising him; as if he’d been reading his mind, he panted, “You’re blushing green.”

“I am green blooded, Jim.”

“I know, it’s just nice to see,” he replied, speeding up slightly to match Spock’s pace, which he was intentionally increasing. “Last time- I saw you with green cheeks- we were doing something entirely different.”

Spock huffed at the sudden recollection of the memory the other night, when Jim had kissed his hand. He masked it with some more hoarse breaths, as if he were becoming tired. 

Jim had no idea how intimate that encounter had been.

He grinned. “Getting tired?”

“No,” he replied truthfully, though he knew it would also fuel Jim’s competitiveness. 

“Let’s go then. Last kilometre,” he puffed, picking up the pace drastically. For a human, he ran very quickly indeed. “Show me what you got.”

But Spock was half Vulcan. He bounded ahead, as they both went in for a sprint. Jim was grinning wildly, as Spock increased the gap between them.

“Show off!” Jim shouted.

Spock held back, and looked over his shoulder with a look of genuine confusion. “You asked me to show you.”

Jim gave a mixture between a pant and laugh, his shirt damp from sweat and sea spray, his chest rising and falling quickly. “You’re always- a show off.”

“That was not my intention,” he replied, his breaths getting shorter now. He could easily say that he’d exerted a sufficient amount of effort into the exercise, without leaving Jim’s side. 

The marshal stood up as and measured their times as they sprinted to the end. Spock walked it off quickly, whereas Jim collapsed in the sand, and lay there, panting.

“It is advisable to remain moving after a long period of exercise,” Spock said, looking down at Jim as he made shapes in the sand similar to a ‘snowangel’. Jim waved the comment off, still too out of breath to speak. 

Eventually he stood up. The others still had a long stretch to go, and Spock watched the figures gradually grow larger as they got closer to the finishing line. He turned to find Jim. Instead of being beside him, where he assumed he would be, he was in fact making his way to the ocean. He had rolled up his tracksuit, uselessly, since the sea was soaking them nonetheless. His arms were outstretched, his head tilted back, as if embracing the city landscape and ocean. His shoulders were moving up and down, still out of breath. His hair was ruffled by the wind. He bent down and poured a handful of sea water over his head, to cool off. 

Spock found himself transfixed. 

There had always been an underlying energy about Jim, an animalistic anger that would arise, in rare situations. Spock had seen little of this for himself, since Jim usually came off as a confident, relaxed man. But he could see it in his actions, in his eyes. And yet, there were moments like these, when Jim was so still, so relaxed and free, that Spock felt a jolt of guilt hit him. He’d told him that his emotional breakdown the other day was triggered by him, by his feelings for him. They both knew the alcohol had a large hand in it, but to put him in that position, for him to see him that way… for him to make moments like these any more rare for him… it was wrong. 

And yet, that encounter had resulted in some of the best advice he’d ever received, and since then, he had embraced his feelings for Jim. He had been able to express himself in ways he never knew he would be able to, and that had been beneficial to both of them.

That was the wonderful thing about James Tiberius Kirk. He was entirely unselfish, though he didn’t realise. He brightened people’s lives, and he opened their eyes to it. Spock had learned more about himself by being with Jim over the past week, than he had in the past 21 years. Because of his behaviour towards him the other night, and because of his advice, he could actually show Jim how he felt. And they could possibly be happy together.

These thoughts ran through his head in only a few moments, so quickly and so overwhelming that Spock sighed quietly. 

How did Jim have the capacity to illicit such emotional outbursts from him?

And then, as if matters couldn’t become any more confusing.

At first, it was just a smile; although, by Spock’s standards, Jim’s smile was never just a smile. It was pure and unrestrained and joyous, as he turned back to him and stepped out of the waves. The grey backdrop behind him, the cold weather that made his Vulcan skin tingle, all of it evaporated as that smile seeped into his body and warmed every part of him. His senses sang, his heart screamed, his throat felt tight as if his breath was trapped in there. 

It was Jim’s smile, one he’d seen numerous times, but in this moment it was _the_ smile. 

He looked down the beach to see the progress of the other cadets, who were catching up, then looked at his feet as he approached. The smile twisted into a half grin, that underlying mischief threatening to tear apart Spock’s logic. He came up close to him.

And then their hands touched. 

To Jim, it was just a small sign of affection, unnoticed by anyone else.

But for Spock-

-a cacophony of golden warmth clouded his body, his mind, his spirit, like a drop of ink in a glass of water, it spread through him, curled around him, became him. His past, his future, his present, everything had been him, everything would be him, everything was him. He was part of him. That golden, joyous smile was seeping through into his mind, like golden ink was twisting through him until finally, the water turned into a gold like the colour of his hair in the morning light. 

He was devoted to him. He was part of him. He was his _th’y’la._

Spock was frozen, whilst Jim’s warmth became his every thought. 

Jim thoughtlessly stroked his fingers along the palm of Spock’s hand and up his wrist. His blue eyes danced between Spock’s.

“We should probably wait,” he said, without breaking the stare.

They were so impossibly blue. Sharp, intelligent, kind, they always managed to knock Spock off guard, even though Vulcans were never meant to feel such surprise and warmth for something so human. They sent a shock down his body, a shiver like he was cold, that counterbalanced the golden heat that hummed throughout him- how was it that he could be both? He was the constant, baffling enigma that made the flow of Spock’s emotions cascade and tumble and explode like a geyser.

This moment of realisation was one which many humans associated with puzzle pieces clicking into place- but like their relationship had been the whole time, it was not that sudden. It was insidious, gradual, it happened without any discernable trigger, it was terrifying and uncontrollable, without any understanding of the situation and without any way of holding back his exponentially growing emotions.

_Th’y’la._

How had this even happened?

He could not remember when his irritation, his disdain, his Vulcan pride had changed into one of respect. When it had changed from respect to friendship, from friendship into confusion- looking up when they studied at the same table to gaze at him, his eyes darting away when Jim looked up at him, and visa versa- from confusion into unparalleled devotion, from devotion to the awakening of some primative, Vulcan instinct that told them they belonged together. 

But somehow their relationship had grown, swelled, and by the touch of Jim’s hand, Spock felt it supernova into rapturous, dazzling perfection.

And, of course, who other to disrupt the moment than-

“Dear God, you’re both filthy,” McCoy panted, hands on his back so that his body was arched, expanding his airways. McCoy may not have been as good as Spock and Jim, but physically he was not a bad cadet. Others streaked past him in a grey blur. “Jim, tell me I didn’t see you pouring water from that cesspool over your head.”

“The ocean?” he teased. “Yeah, you did. What’re you gonna do, put me in quarantine?”

“Save me a whole lot of trouble,” he mumbled. 

The three of them made their way to the next test, back at the gymnasium, most of the mud having been flaked off them by the light rain. McCoy voiced his displeasure and pessimism on the subject, Jim replying with such a level of contrasting optimism that it aggravated McCoy beyond logical speech, much to Jim’s enjoyment. McCoy carried his medkit with him, and was checking his vitals as they walked. Jim wafted his hand away like he were an irritating insect, but to no avail. McCoy was equally as stubborn.

“Lucky you got away from that without something horrific.”

“I’m fine, Bones.”

Bones took out a hypo. Jim struggled, while McCoy got him into a headlock. 

“Bones-”

“Shuddup.”

They would often ‘playfight’, and their actions now resembled this tradition, however Spock knew that Jim didn’t want to become subject to McCoy’s hypo. He disinfected the area, before-

“Oh God, is that a hickie?” He jabbed the hypo quickly, before sighing, his nose wrinkled, and pushing Jim away. 

Jim slapped a hand to his neck and shot Spock an alarmed glance, who returned a similar expression. “Is it that obvious?”

“I have a doctor’s eye, Jim.”

Jim sighed in exasperation. “Well, thank you for pointing it out, Bones, who knows who could have heard that.”

“Oh, calm down, everyone will think it’s from one of your one night stands.”

 _Except, there have been rumours,_ Spock thought.

The test was simple, or at least it was for Spock. He could’ve knocked out any of the cadets by simply touching their shoulder, however he knew that this would be considered cheating. He also could not use his full strength, so he simply went through the motions, swiftly pinning 5 cadets in would-be-lethal positions and gaining a high score. He moved off the mats, where they all had to fight bare foot, and sat by the edge tying up his shoe laces. A simple enough task, however, the recent developments of his feelings for Jim haunted his mind. And, nothing seemed simple when Jim Kirk was in his line of vision.  
He was fighting against his favourite opponent, Finnegan, an Irishman who’s sole purpose in life, it seemed, was to irritate Jim and coax him into fights. There’d been a few times when Spock had had to drag Jim away from bar brawls because of this man.

Right now Jim was using an eclectic combination of boxing and martial arts moves, it seemed, occasionally using unprecedented moves which no opponent could foresee. Finnegan danced from foot to foot, taunting him and giggling insanely as he usually did. He swung quickly at Jim’s jaw, who ducked. He leaned back, swinging his foot underneath Finnegan’s and tripping him up. He swivelled quickly back round onto both feet, leaning his knee on Finnegan’s chest. 

His back curved as he leaned over his struggling opponent, the ridges of his spine noticeable through his stretched t-shirt. He stood up smoothly, his body unfurling, his back straightening, hip slightly to one side, shoulders taut, the slopes of the muscles in his torso visible through his tight shirt. Spock realised that he remarkably resembled an Ancient Greek statue, especially as he held down a hand to the prone Irishman.

Naturally, Spock had always known that Jim was handsome for his species. But, as a Vulcan, physical attraction had never been a factor in Spock’s life. Thus, when he had imagined a future bondmate (which had been rarely), physical appearance had never occurred to him. To Vulcans, to feel any attraction based on external aesthetics was illogical. 

But, Spock had to remind himself now- he was only half Vulcan.

And Jim was a glorious, contradictory, beautiful human.

Suddenly, a pang of nerves struck him in his side, by his heart. 

It was true that he was physically attracted to Jim. It was also true that he was sexually attracted to him; that much had already been evident. But for Vulcans, such primal instincts ran deep beneath the logic and philosophy which Surak had taught them, and, through evolution, they became suppressible. Without the influence of pon farr, Vulcans could lead their lives without ever feeling sexual desire. Unless, of course, they met their th’y’la, but even then, the urge ran deep. Such instincts could only be eased out a Vulcan’s raging river of emotions, slowly and carefully. To arouse it without intense emotional intimacy, without trust, without an extended amount of time with a partner would leave a Vulcan’s mental barriers torn. It was dangerous. 

After all, before the façade of logic, the Vulcan race had once been barbaric. It was no coincidence that they were relatives to the Romulans.

Spock attempted to keep the sudden worry show in his expression. 

Jim was human.

What if he wanted to move the relationship ahead more quickly than Spock could handle? Spock knew that he could speak to him, explain. But would Jim be disappointed? It was not that the attraction wasn’t there- it grew stronger by the day. It was not that he did not want to experience it, nor that he could not- but given his emotional instability in the past, and the fact that he was a Vulcan, such matters could not be treated lightly.

He trusted Jim would not, but the notion still filled him with nerves, as they walked back to their rooms together. Jim was chattering happily, as he went into his room. Spock followed.

“I mean, all I’m saying is that if they should have done our physical tests before the exams, not, like, three days before Christmas break and after all our revision. It isn’t the best way to test our-” he paused, towel round his neck, a slight frown. His startling blue eyes examined Spock’s. “You OK?”

Spock had his hands behind his back. 

He had no idea. In the space of a few hours he had discovered that the man before him was his _th’y’la_. The matter of sexual encounters had also come to light, and all in all it was incredibly confusing and overwhelming. 

Jim needed to know both of these things. 

Perhaps first approaching the latter would be easiest. Spock felt he was not quite ready to inform Jim of the former, so early in the relationship.

This was a sensitive subject. How on Earth could he broach it?

The pause was enough to concern Jim, who stepped towards him to meet his lowered gaze. “Spock?” he asked cautiously. 

The curve of his shoulders. The shape of his torso. His messy hair. Piercing, expectant stare. Unaware of what he was doing to him.

And suddenly it occurred to Spock that he needed to convey some of these base instincts. Just as Jim had suggested before, he could not supress his emotions, he needed to channel them.

The warm feeling in his body and his increasing heart rate told him that the desire was there, it was definitely there. The memory of Jim’s golden warmth flowing through his body when their hands touched, his movements as he fought earlier that afternoon…

The desire was definitely there.

He just needed to express it in the correct environment.

Spock’s lips parted, as he examined Jim’s matted hair, his face tinted with the sheen of sweat. Spock tilted his head slightly.

“It is a matter of… sensitivity.”

Jim did not break his gaze, remaining a cool demeanour. “You can tell me anything, Spock, if you want to.”

If you want to. There it was, more evidence that Jim was cautious not to push Spock in this relationship. Spock noticed a joint Jim’s jaw tick. “I am… not unaware that you are careful concerning my Vulcan restraint, when it comes to our relationship.”

Confusion flashed through Jim’s eyes momentarily. “Always.”

Spock exhaled, not quite a sigh, but close. “You have also expressed your own desire to take ‘take it slow’.”

_“Yeah.”_

Spock swallowed. He spoke before he could fully decide if it were the logical thing to say. “Until now, sexual desire has been an instinct entirely unknown to me.”

A flush of warmth hit his chest, ears and cheeks. The back of his neck prickled. Embarrassment.

Jim didn’t look surprised. Why was he not more surprised. 

“Well, I guessed so, Spock. That’s why I’m so shocked that we’ve done as much as we have.”

Spock blinked. “You do not find it… distressing?”

“What? No, no, Spock,” Jim laughed lightly, stepping towards him again. “I didn’t get into this thinking about that sort of stuff, or with big expectations. Didn’t really have the time, it happened so quickly,” he added. “I mean, I can’t say I don’t feel that way for you, because… well, I’m human. And I’m me,” he added. 

“I never said that I did not harbour such feelings for you in return, Jim.”

Jim’s flirtatious smile appeared for a second at the most. “Well yeah. I didn’t get this from nowhere,” he muttered, pointing to the small bruise on his neck. “It’s just… I figured it would be the same with any Vulcan emotion. It runs deep, so it would take time and care to let it show. Without… you know, it becoming too overwhelming, like the other night.”

Spock looked down. He felt like his insides had deflated. “I am immeasurably sorry that you had to see me in such conditions.”

Jim’s gaze softened. He stretched out a hand and stroked Spock’s bangs from his face, as gently as a San Francisco spring breeze. That golden rush hummed down Spock’s spine as Jim touched his face, and he could sense his care for him, his concern. “You’re such a dumb idiot, Spock.” He didn’t pause for long, because he must have known Spock would be confused by such a statement. He chuckled. “I’m immeasurably grateful and honoured that you let me see you like that. That’s a lot of trust right there.”

Spock blinked again. For many things, he could form a pattern, correlations and formulae, predictions. And yet Jim’s perceptive nature always surprised him. Almost everything about him surprised him. “You were not perturbed? You are not afraid that I may again-”

“You’re perfect the way you are,” he said. His eyes widened slightly, and his eyes darted away as he realised what he said. “Well, I mean, you know.”

Spock’s mouth twitched. So close to a smile. 

He did know. 

“But yeah, like I was saying,” Jim continued, looking at Spock’s chest, and laying a hand on it delicately, “I care more for you than I’ve ever cared about anyone, so, even if it means we don’t do certain things… it’s an easy sacrifice.”

Spock knew he would understand. But the truth was, Spock knew just as little about what Jim would be sacrificing as he did. He’d never delved into this part of himself before, so he had no experience in what he was capable of. What he did know was that right now, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to feel that glow spread through him again, he wanted Jim to know that he wanted him.

Kissing him now surely wasn’t the best idea, however. Not considering the subject topic.

Instead he took the hand which lay on his chest. Golden sparks hissed through his body as he registered Jim’s surprise and excitement. 

There was no hint of disappointment.

He led Jim towards the bed, where he sat down, and expected Jim to do so too- instead, Jim stood in front of him, still holding his hand.

“As I have mentioned, I have never explored this part of myself before, so I am unaware of what sacrifices will be made, if any.”

“Sacrifice isn’t the right word,” he muttered, watching their intertwining fingers, regretting his previous statement. Spock felt his embarrassment second hand. 

“I am aware of Vulcans in the past, who have experienced such desire, when its application is logical.”

Jim gave an exasperated laugh, which sounded more like a sharp exhalation. “So, there’s a possibility that it’s just like any other Vulcan emotion,” Jim replied after a moment. “It’s just sort of… dormant. It’s there, but you’ve never felt it.”

“There is the possibility, yes.” Spock looked up at his paradoxically warm, blue eyes. He could sense a familiar buzz of nervousness travel up his arm.

“All that being said,” he said quietly, gently stroking Spock’s thumb with his own. “Do you want to see where this goes?”

Spock cleared his throat. “I do not know, since I have not yet had the impulse for… certain activities.”

 _“Yeah,”_ he said soothingly, “but, do you want to find out? If you have that… impulse?”

Spock weighed up his options, looking at their hand entwined hands. If he decided to find out how far he could go, if he dared to unbury such a base instinct, he could channel his emotions more healthily, with the one person he trusted most in the universe. Their relationship would take another step forward. Also, even though Vulcans would never admit to feeling sexual desire based on affection, that did not mean that it had not occurred before. The emotions were there, undeniably.

And Spock was half human. That was always a factor he needed to consider.

But there was also the possibility that his Vulcan control was too strong for him to be able to experience sexual desire. That his need for reservation was too strong, after so many years of using the façade to conceal his feelings.

Somehow, considering past evidence, he felt that this wouldn’t be a problem. 

He trusted Jim implicitly, and he’d already seen him at his most vulnerable. He knew he could rely on Jim not to let him go too far, before he became too dangerously enveloped in his emotions.

The question was not whether he was capable. It was whether he truly wanted to. 

“I am curious to discover what my half Vulcan, half Human lineage allows me to explore emotionally,” he said finally. His eyebrow twitched, as he looked back up at Jim. “Scientifically speaking.”

“Scientifically…” Jim repeated, but cut himself off. A grin crept at the corner of his mouth. “Ok,” he said simply. 

Spock pulled him gently by the hand. That hum was stronger than ever. He wondered if Jim could feel it? If he could feel him feelings, his soul trickling through his body? He was about to ask, but instead of sitting beside him, as Spock thought he would, Jim placed one knee on either side of him carefully, looming over him until he settled into his lap. Their hands were still linked, while Jim lifted his other to Spock’s cheek. The heat from his hands, from his emotions thrummed to the rhythm of his heart beat, pouring directly into his mind. He could feel his affection, his nerves, his confidence, his desire.

It was hot, like when you dodge in and out of the shower because you’re not used to the temperature, until you’re body becomes accustomed to it, and you enjoy the scorching heat. He could feel Jim’s lust, invading his entire being and flooding him, immediately making Spock tense up in reaction. He drew a shaky breath. The gold ink was dripping in from Jim’s hand and directly into Spock’s mind. The waters of his emotions grew increasingly agitated to Jim’s invasion, but not in a distressing way. Spock realised, all of a sudden, as he returned his lowered gaze, that the lust charging through his body wasn't entirely Jim’s.

“So… scientifically speaking,” he said quietly, keeping a safe distance between them, despite the fact that he was straddling him. “Is this OK?”

Spock managed a nod. He opened his mouth to reply, and hesitated. Jim raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “You may imagine it as a river,” Spock began, and Jim listened patiently, resting his arms on his shoulders. “Vulcan emotions run strong, they are base and instinctive, as with any species. For Vulcans, one could even venture that they flow stronger than human emotions. Therefore, for us be able to live a meditative and civilized life, Vulcans place strong barriers in our minds, to keep them from overruling us, as they once did.

“As you have suggested, especially because of my human heritage, it is necessary that I channel my emotions in some way. If I do not, then the river will overflow, the barriers will break from the pressure of constant flowing emotion, and there is a great possibility that I be left in an unhealthy, mental disarray. Your presence has saved me from this, in the past,” he added, returning Jim’s affection by placing a hand on his hip. Jim smiled, looking deep into his eyes as he spoke. “However, if I channel too much too quickly, the result would be very similar. My mental barriers would break.”

Jim frowned slightly, shuffling slightly closer. Spock allowed it, his hand moving round to Jim’s back. 

“So, what you’re saying is… little and often.”

The idea of little suddenly didn’t sound so appealing as often. Spock could feel their intermingling emotions now, a myriad of gold and blue, he could feel Jim’s anticipation, he could feel the sparks of Jim’s excitement settle in his stomach, dancing with his own. Jim’s heartbeat thrummed faster now, his eyes were darker, and they flitted between his eyes and his lips. Spock realised this was because he was instinctively leaning closer towards Jim, pulling him slightly too. 

There was an undeniable force pulling them together. A universal constant, whatever universe they were in.

Spock’s other hand left Jim’s and cupped his face, slightly sticky with sweat from that afternoon’s tests. The memory of him in the ocean, him touching his hand, the movement of his muscles as he fought, the grin on his face when he stood at the end of the obstacle course…

He was frightened, anxious, uncertain. But the curiosity outweighed that. 

_Th’y’la…_

Their noses brushed, as Jim arched his back and settled as close as possible into Spock’s lap. A jolt of arousal shot from Jim to Spock. He stroked his face and brushed a hand through his hair. Spock closed his eyes, the sound of staggered breathing filling his senses. He could feel Jim’s breath on his lips, sparks of anticipation flying between them. His hand fell to cup Jim’s jaw, and he could feel his pulse beneath it. It was surprisingly steady, but strong. His other hand slid back to Jim’s hip.

Jim sighed, warmth blossoming across Spock’s face. “It’s at moments like these,” he mumbled hoarsely, “when I don’t find it hard to believe… that anything’s possible.”

Spock’s eyes were still closed, but he could feel what Jim was about to do through the spike in his emotions, flushing through his hand that cupped his face. He gently brushed his lips against his.

And that was all that was needed.

Spock pulled him closer- even though there was nowhere else to go- pressing his mouth firmly against Jim’s, who replied with a quiet moan. His hand ran from Jim’s hip down along his leg and settled on his thigh, his rigid, perfect posture loosening but his hand gripping Jim’s leg tight. Jim’s body undulated with his breathing, and he pulled away momentarily with a shudder as Spock’s hand rose up along his back and down again. 

He felt Jim’s mounting excitement charge along his senses-

the sparks of arousal churning his emotions until it was scalding, overflowing-

Jim pulled away. His blue eyes were fierce and worried.

Spock looked back at him in confusion, before he realised that he was panting, hyperventilating. 

“Woah, woah, everything OK?” he asked warily, a flash of guilty fluttered in his eyes. He shuffled backwards, closer to Spock’s knees than his body now, and straightened the hair that he’d ruffled, never leaving his gaze.

Spock swallowed and controlled his breathing. Shame engulfed him. After what they’d just been discussing, how could he have let himself become so overwhelmed so easily? He needed to be more strict, more-

“Little and often, remember,” Jim said quietly. That was not a particularly satisfying prospect, but Spock knew it was the wisest way to go about it. He did not realise he’d been frowning, until Jim smoothed the crease between his brows with his thumb, a gentle smile teasing his mouth. “Mind if I stay where I am? It’s actually pretty comfortable.”

Spock evaluated the situation. The moment had definitely passed, so the fact that Jim was sitting in his lap was more comforting than anything else. The closeness eased Spock’s sense of disappointment and frustration, that he’d just ruined a good opportunity to explore his feelings, as they’d been discussing. 

He nodded in consent, his breathing patterns returning to normal, brushing that stray strand of hair aside, which would inevitably fall back into Jim’s forehead. There was something calming, almost therapeutic about moving away his hair, over and over. It was a relaxing feeling, being able to show such simple affections without being ashamed, as only a Vulcan would. As he did so, he contemplated how simple and calm this moment was. He contemplated how strange it was that so much had changed within two weeks. He contemplated, in awe, how that was the man that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the man his soul craved for. His th’y’la. 

Nothing could compare to this moment of complete peace, happiness and trust, Spock playing with Jim’s hair, Jim looking back at him quietly. Spock knew now that whenever he looked at him, he would see his th’y’la, his other half, so to speak. A part of him. He was one single man, the only one, but everything. Looking at Jim, feeling his happy, golden soul hum up through his fingers as he stroked the hair out of his face over and over and over- feeling him tangle up inside him like he did in his sheets in the morning, bathed in the light yellow morning sun- it was perfection. He was seeing so much more than Jim’s face right now- he was seeing Jim, Jim in all his glorious ways, Jim’s heart and soul and feelings, he was seeing that he felt the same way.

“What’s your favourite song?”

Spock tilted his head minutely, as he registered the sudden question. “Nocturne in Eb, by Frederik Chopin,” he mused, affectionately stroking Jim’s hair.

He smiled with his eyes, his head leaning into Spock’s hand. “Oh yeah. I forgot you like classical music.” He paused. “A lot of people assume that Vulcans don’t have an appreciation for art.”

“I am aware,” he replied quietly. 

“I don’t think logic cancels out art, though. I suppose art can be mostly emotional expressionism, but I think they work together well,” he smiled, realising the implications of what he was saying.

“Indeed,” Spock replied quietly. “What is yours?” He enjoyed knowing this about Jim. This didn’t count as small talk.

Jim looked over Spock’s shoulder, humming in thought. “I dunno, now you ask. I s’pose I have a few. But… if I had to choose an artist, I’d say Bob Dylan. Or maybe Leonard Cohen.” His gaze remained distant, relaxed. “I could make you a mix tape.”

“I would be amenable to such a suggestion,” Spock replied. 

Jim mindlessly fiddled with the hem of Spock’s grey gym shirt. “I know your favourite colour, at least. Is it still blue?”

Spock did not tear his gaze away from Jim’s eyes. “Yes. And yours is green, if I remember correctly.”

Jim smiled mischievously. “’If I remember correctly’- you always remember correctly.”

Spock raised his eyebrows slightly. “I was simply using a common human colloquialism.”

“Right,” he rolled his eyes.

Spock could feel a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Only very faint. He was intrigued by this game. “What is your favourite word?”

Jim’s eyebrows raised this time, slightly surprised to receive a question in return. “Hmm. That’s quite a broad question.”

“No more than ‘what’s your favourite colour’.”

“Yeah, but, am I choosing a favourite word based on sound, meaning, what?”

Spock tilted his head slightly. “If it is a favourite word, surely it would fit into both categories?”

“True,” Jim mused. “You’re gonna have to give me time to think about that one. For now, from the top of my head… tranquillity.”

A word which when spoken creates sound reflecting it’s meaning. Peace. Happiness. Difficult to achieve, but when found, it is almost divine. Considering the moment, it was apt.

Spock felt hesitation at the tips of fingers as he stroked the contours of Jim’s face. “You may tell me anything, Jim.”

He looked up and smiled shyly. To most people, Jim was entirely confident, but Spock knew better. “That Vulcan mind reading thing’s pretty scary.”

“I am not reading your mind,” Spock clarified. “I would never invade your privacy in such away without permission. I can only feel what you are feeling.”

Jim leaned into Spock’s hand again. “Some would say that amounts to the same thing.”

Spock paused. “If you would prefer, I can find ways to avoid-”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s actually nice, feeling this open with someone.” Spock waited, as Jim considered his words. “You’re the closest I’ve ever been with a person. Or, at least, since my parents died, with the whole... you know.” Spock did know. He was a survivor of the Tarsus IV eugenics attack, however, his parents were not. He remained relaxed, despite the subject matter. He began to trace the edge of Spock’s right ear. “Losing the people you care most about in the universe is terrible, and it tears you apart. So, I’ve looked for ways to sew myself back together, fill in the holes. Try and… fill that loneliness. There were times when I thought I was in love, and then it didn’t work out, and other times when I’ve cut and run before I get too close, because it’s devastating, being the one left behind. So… I’ve always needed to be close to people but I’ve also been too scared. Enjoying the excitement, the risk in trying, but being paralysed because-” 

He paused, and sighed. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, there are other reasons why I want to take this slow. I can’t rush into this, Spock. You’re the person I care most about in this damn universe, so I can’t do my usual, impulsive jump into the deep end and find out what happens, because it’s you, and, I can’t ruin this. You’re too important. Whenever I’ve cared deeply for anyone, or visa versa, it’s gone wrong, but you’re the most important, Spock. You’re too important.” He continued to trace the outline of his ear. “You’re that person, I can tell. You know? The one that finally fills that gaping hole I’ve been walking round with my entire life. But I need to keep you at arms length, even though I need you because… I’m… I’m terrified of…”

He looked down and exhaled roughly, hiding his gaze. Spock touched the tip of his chin and gently lifted his face to meet his eyes. 

“I will never leave your side, Jim. I am devoted to you.”

Jim looked away from his gaze and swallowed. There was a ten second pause, as he considered his next words. “I figured, if I became a Federation captain, then at least I’d have people to look after, and I’d eventually come to terms with the loneliness… but then you came along,” he chuckled, looking up at the ceiling, as if to gather his thoughts. “And you go and say a thing like that.”

“It is the absolute truth,” Spock said quietly, cupping Jim’s face. “Vulcans do not lie.”

Jim laughed quietly. “I can’t imagine a life without you, now,” he murmured. He winced. “I know how cheesy this all is, but I feel like some universal force has brought us together, like it’s unavoidable. Like we belong together.” He laughed more brightly now. “So cheesy. But do you know what I mean? Almost like we’re yin and yang, like we fit together. Like a…”

 _“Th’y’la,”_ Spock finished in a low, quiet voice.

Jim blinked, tracing Spock’s left ear now, his contradictory sharp, yet soft eyes gazing back at him. “What does that mean?”

“It is exactly as you have described,” Spock mused. “One’s _th’y’la_ is similar to a soul mate. It’s meaning extends beyond Earth translations; more than a friend, more than a brother, more than family or lover, it encapsulates every one of these relationships and more. I have been… experiencing its effects for the first time today.”

Jim’s hand stopped where it was on his ear. “You saying I’m your _th’y’la?”_

“Yes.”

Jim grinned, and the sensation of his unbridled joy sent a golden tremor through his fingers and into Spock’s senses. It was like waking up to him opening the curtains in the morning, the too bright sunlight bathing him in warmth. “You know you pretty much just told me you love me.”

Spock opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated. “The sensation of being at one with your _th’y’la_ is best described as perfection, although the feeling is beyond words.”

“Sounds like love, in my books,” Jim replied, his grin didn’t break.

“One day soon, I may show you through a mind meld how it feels to-”

“You love me,” Jim said matter of factly, and a smug decisiveness settled in the form of lazy a smile.

Spock sighed in resignation. “By human standards, this is a logical conclusion.”

Jim’s smile was gentle. “You’d probably guessed by this point, but I love you back.” He sighed, with a slight frustrated frown. “Pretty sure I have this whole time.” He fiddled with the hem of Spock’s shirt again. “I can’t believe I’ve just told you that. We’ve only been going out for like, what, a week? Less?”

Spock’s eyebrows momentarily flitted upwards towards his bangs. “It must be considered, however, that we have known each other for over three years. And we have cared for each other for only a little less than that. We would not express such feelings for each other so early on in the relationship unless we were certain of them.”

“True. So, the fact that I just told you I love you even though we haven’t technically been on a date yet,” Jim bit the inside of his cheek. “That doesn’t scare you?”

“Do I have cause to be afraid?” Spock replied, more mischievous than he intended. It was rubbing off on him. 

Sure enough, Jim’s smile twisted into a crooked grin. “Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll keep you on your toes.”

“You have proven to be unpredictable in the past.” Jim’s light-hearted expression darkened slightly. Spock began playing with his hair again. “I will forever remain by your side, nonetheless, Jim. I have been, and always shall be, devoted to you.”

Jim sighed, a pained smile on his face. He shook his head. “How did this even happen?”

Spock tilted his head. “The nature of our relationship is unusual. Our feelings for each other seem to have developed without our realisation. However, for the fact that this has… ‘happened’… I have no complaint.”

Jim closed his eyes. He leaned his cheek into Spock’s palm, and cupped his hand in his own. The sensation of abating fear and overriding happiness washed into Spock’s system. “Neither. _Th’y’la.”_


	6. Kirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov's 17th birthday party doesn't end well.

It was good to get out again. Jim was dedicated to his work, so it wasn’t until his final exam had finished and the physical assessments were over that he felt he could put his feet up. And he had cause to celebrate; he and Spock had landed their first missions. Mallory had pulled a few strings, so he could get some experience as an ensign on the USS _Republic_. He’d be shadowing Lt. Finney- he’d met the guy a couple of times, and he seemed nice enough. Spock had already been given the position for science officer on the USS _Enterprise_ with captain Pike, and Jim had to admit he was a little jealous. It was only for a couple of months, before the next semester started, but _science officer_? On the _Enterprise?_ As if he could _be_ any luckier.

They were leaving tomorrow morning, 0800.

This was it. This was what he’d been working for, this was what he’d been hanging onto since he was thirteen after he’d escaped that godforsaken planet. He was finally there, being invited aboard a real starship, following his father’s footsteps like he’d always wanted. His journey was beginning, and he could tell. It was going to be incredible.

So, yeah. He felt like he deserved a couple of drinks. 

Besides, it was Chekov’s 17th birthday. A bunch of them were meeting up in a bar right on the edge of campus, it was pretty fun and chilled out, the kind you could take an underage, innocent kid to. Jim knew a guy who knew a guy who knew the manager, had a few words with him, and charmed his way into letting Chekov in for a while. Spock, of course, was absolutely scandalised when Jim told him what they were up to. Although, to be honest, Jim was pretty sure he was smart enough to somehow manipulate his electronic ID so the bouncers wouldn’t notice he looked like he was about 12. If anyone could pull of a fake ID, it was Chekov; the kid was a technical genius. 

Speaking of which.

“Mr Kirk, Mr Kirk!”

Chekov waved at him cheerily, through the busy San Francisco, Friday night crowd. Sulu was with him. Jim smiled. He got on well with Sulu- he’d taught him fencing once or twice. That guy was crazy- Jim got the impression that he didn’t really want to work in Starfleet, rather he just wanted to be a pirate and have sword fights with everyone. Chekov scampered up to him, and Sulu followed him with a weary smile.

“Mr Kirk, thank you for pulling the strings for me tonight!”

Jim laughed. “Yeah, well, remember, this is a one off, because it’s your birthday. Happy birthday, but the way- but remember, you’re not 18 yet so you’re not even supposed to be here.”

Chekov looked around him cautiously, as if to check no one was listening, and gave a serious nod. “Yes sir.”

“What’s with the ‘sir’?”

“I think he’s a little nervous,” Sulu teased.

“I am not,” Chekov argued petulantly. 

“Well, this is gonna go well,” Jim muttered under his breath, as he led them in.

It was pretty busy. There was an eclectic mixture of people, as campus bars usually are. There was some nondescript music in the background, and the bar was completely crowded. Looked like getting drinks wasn’t gonna happen for a while. He scanned the room until he found Bones, Scotty and Uhura, who’d magically found a table towards the back of the room. Bones spotted him and waved them over.

Of course, Jim was stopped multiple times- people saying hi, giving their congratulations for his exciting news about the USS _Republic._ It seemed like everyone knew him, although he wasn’t sure how that had happened. Sure he took a lot of classes (more than he was supposed to. History, Mechanics, Tactics…) and it was true that he was a social guy, but was always surprised by how many people wanted to know how he was doing. 

Uhura met him with a hug- so graceful and kind- whereas Scotty slapped him on the shoulder with a cackle, and Bones threw his current complaints at him with the occasional swirl of a whiskey glass for added drama. 

“You fancy a drink, Kirk my boy?” Scotty grinned, flashing his hip flask which he’d smuggled in, before hiding it back in his jacket pocket. “Proper whiskey, this stuff is, brought it just for the special occasion.”

“Do _not_ give Chekov any of that, Scotty, seriously,” Jim laughed, checking up on the 17 year old, who was speaking happily in Russian with Uhura. She laughed softly at some comment he’d made. “I don’t want his first experience at a bar to involve me carrying him home.”

“Well, unlike some people, I bet the lad can handle his drink, he’s Russian remember, he’s brought up on Vodka. I mean, that rubbish is like milk in comparison to this stuff, but…” he added.

“I’m sorry, ‘unlike some people’? Are you implying that I can’t hold my liquor, Mr Scott?” 

“That I am, Jim.”

Jim stood up, and made his way to the bar. “I’ll take that as a challenge, my Scottish friend.”

He worked his way through the crowd, chatting to a few people as he did. When he finally got to the bar, he let a couple of frustrated, freshman girls who’d been waiting forever to order first, before he realised who the barman was.

“Gary! I had no idea you worked here!”

The man behind the bar opened his arms wide in surprise and welcome. “Jim! How’s it going, man? Congrats on the mission, when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Jim grinned, shaking Gary’s hand enthusiastically. He’d depended on Gary Mitchell a lot when he was a freshman, juggling too many classes and working to earn a little extra for college fees. He was a good friend, a year above him. “What are you doing here?”

“Just earning a little something on the side, you know, till I graduate,” he replied, talking loudly over the other barmen and students ordering drinks and brushing his short, dark hair back. “How did your exams go?”

Jim shrugged. “Fine. Tactics could have gone better, but I did what I could do.”

Gary shook his head. “Nah, you nailed it, you always do. Listen, if you’re still being as stupid and ambitious as you were before, you should take up Gill’s class next semester.”

“History, right? He’s the one doing the module on, uh… Neolithic cultures in the Delta Quadrant, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, it’s fascinating. Listen, what can I get you?” Gary gave a guilty smile, hands on the bar with a towel over his shoulder, examining the slowly growing crowd. He needed to move Jim along. 

Jim thought that maybe starting it off slow for Chekov was a good idea, but he didn’t wanna wait around. “A Budweiser Classic and a couple of shots of Jacks, if you’d be so kind.”

“No problem.” He provided them swiftly. “On the house.”

“Ah, no, seriously-”

“Have a good night Jim,” Gary interrupted, hand held up. “And tell me how it all goes!”

“Will do,” he replied, before knocking back the shots in quick succession. That familiar heat burned his throat, and he hissed in appreciation. 

He took Chekov’s beer and made his way back to the table. But, inevitably-

“Jim!”

Janice Rand. One of his first hook-ups at Starfleet, but they ended up becoming great friends. Her blonde hair was done up in an elaborate bun- it must have taken forever to pin up. She ran towards him (as best she could in her heels), with an Orion girl in pursuit. 

“Jim, how are you?” She asked with a beautiful, intelligent smile and a hug. 

“Good, how were the exams?”

“Terrible,” she rolled her eyes, “but I got some experience working on the USS _Farragut_ this holiday, so I’m happy!”

“Congratulations-”

“Sorry, this is my friend, Galia-”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The girl with ivy skin leant up on her tip toes and kissed Jim on each cheek. She clung onto his arm for a moment, before returning to Janice’s side. Flirtation came as second nature to Orions, as natural as saying hello, so it didn’t surprise Jim that she was giving him some intense bedroom eyes. 

“My pleasure,” Jim said, bowing his head slightly. 

“Come dance with us,” Janice smiled, taking his hand.

Jim sighed, looking over his shoulder back at the others. “I really can’t, I’m keeping an eye out for a friend tonight, it’s his first night out ever. Sorry Jan.”

“We promise we won’t keep you long,” Galia begged, dancing around Janice and Jim in anticipation. Orions were also known for their artistic, expressionistic skills. They were particularly excellent dancers, so when Galia danced now, it wasn’t so much like a friend persuading another friend to come dance with them, but more like a sinuous display of beautiful flowing golden garments and flexibility. Like a green leaf twirling in the wind. Not exactly something you see on Friday night in a questionable bar. 

Jim laughed to himself. “Wow. Ok, well I don’t think I would dance with you now, even if I could. It’d just be embarrassing. The only moves I got are these.” He pulled out some distinctly ‘dad dancing’ moves, which he knew would cause a few giggles, air guitaring and doing something resembling a chicken dance. Until out of the corner or his eye-

_Spock?!_

It was no hallucination. Spock was the entrance of the bar, looking for him. Or at least, he assumed he was looking for him. There was absolutely no other reason why he would be somewhere so opposite to his comfort zone.

_Please, please God say he did not just see me dad dancing._

He turned back to them, trying not to let the shock register onto his face. “Sorry girls. See you next semester? And good luck with the _Farragut_ -!”

They were already gone, Galia pulling Janice by the hand to the dance floor. Jim shrugged, and turned his attention immediately to Spock, who’d apparently found him, and was making his way through the crowd with a strained expression. 

“Spock? What are you doing here?”

He kept a safe distance. They were in public, and Spock didn’t want any more rumours going round. “I thought that I should check up on cadet Chekov for myself, considering the illegalities of the situation.”

“No you didn’t,” Jim said bluntly. “Or at least, that’s not the only reason.”

Spock’s stoic expression didn’t falter as some guy pushed past him towards the bar. He looked so out of place. “I also considered that, because of our limited time on Earth before we leave for our respective missions, that I use that time to see you.”

“Thought so,” he said smugly.

“You are surprisingly sobre.”

“Not gonna stop me from crawling into your bed tonight,” he muttered, so only Spock could hear. 

“Past evidence shows that it has not precluded you before.” 

Jim didn’t meet his eye as he smiled. Just to avoid the suspicions of those around them. He was going to miss this so much; two months without him might as well have been a lifetime. He suddenly remembered he was holding Chekov’s drink, the condensation running down his wrist, now that the beer was warming up in his hand. 

“Coming?”

Spock hesitated, before giving a reluctant nod. He knew that Jim would want to see his friends before he left. And Jim guessed that he had no problem with that part- it was more the obnoxious noise that was happening around them. 

Naturally, the first one to greet Spock was Bones. “What in Gods name are _you_ doing _here_?”

“I have come to visit my friends before leaving for my two month mission, if that is allowed, cadet,” he replied brusquely.

“Oh, well I’m flattered that you’d call me your friend,” Bones snarled with heavy sarcasm.

“It seems you are mistaken- I do not believe I ever said that you were one of them.”

As per usual, everyone found Bones and Spock’s conversations a source of immense hilarity, Chekov and Sulu watching with anticipation from the side lines and Scotty occasionally adding comments like, “Hoo hoo, what you going to say to that then, lad?” or “Oooh, things are heating up, now.” 

Jim hadn’t realised that he’d been looking at Spock the whole time. The quirk of his eyebrow, stiff lower lip, that _fantastic_ bitch face and disdainful pout that Jim reckoned he had no idea he was expressing. His hands were behind his back, like he were on business. Jim wished he could show some sort of affection in public, instead of just _looking_ at him, but he knew how much it meant to Spock to keep things under wraps for now. When he tore his eyes away, Uhura was giving him an unsettling, knowing glance, a small smile. 

That meant only one thing. She’d worked it out. Unsurprising, since she was a linguist, she could probably read them like a book. 

Jim shook his head slightly and shrugged a little, and opening his mouth as if he should say something, but there was nothing he _could_ say, not here or now. Uhura nodded, as if to say ‘your secret’s safe with me’.

Jim leaned over Chekov’s shoulder to the table and handed him his luke warm beer, but it seemed people had already bought him a couple since he’d been gone, because there was an empty bottle and another opened on waiting for him. 

Four rounds of drinks and a play of ‘Dancing Queen’ (especially for Chekov, of course) later, and the place was a little less busy, as people began to tail off to parties or clubs. Chekov was surrounded by a crowd of adoring girls- who clearly found the fact that he was ‘sewenteen today!’ too cute to bare- and couldn’t believe his luck. There was some classic, cheesy 2100s song playing, the kind that everyone knew the words to, all his friends were around the same table (including the man he was utterly and inconsolably in love with, apparently), and he had his first Starfleet mission the next morning. Things honestly couldn’t be better. 

Which reminded him, he should lay off the drinks for a while. Not only did he want to be hung over tomorrow morning, but he also didn’t want to be drunk on his last night with Spock. 

Spock was having some civilised, insightful conversation with Uhura. They got on really well, although not many people saw it. Uhura was patient, kind and shrewd, and honestly she’d probably worked Spock out light-years before Jim had. Spock enjoyed her company, as someone who was down to Earth and dedicated to their career, whilst simultaneously being easy going and social. Jim suspected Spock found that part of her fascinating, since he’d considered himself to be down to Earth and hard working but not exactly easy going or social. They had a lot in common, and Uhura seemed to derive a lot of enjoyment from talking to him, too. It had all started, really, when Jim and Spock were hanging out in Spock’s room, who was playing the Vulcan lute (after Jim had begged him to play for him) and Uhura had come to ask them a question on their homework; she started to sing along with Spock’s playing, and they hit it off. 

He looked so relaxed, considering the fact that he was in a busy, loud, dark bar full of questionable people. It was like watching a cat curl up in a room full of puppies, ignoring everything going on around it with a sort of resigned weariness, but not being all together unhappy. Spock had the faint edge of that smile that would creep up on him, and Jim doubted he realised he did it. It wasn’t so much of a smile, as an expression of relaxed interest, as he listened to Uhura’s words. It was his ‘this is a fascinating conversation and I’m actually pretty chilled’ face. Jim wondered how many other people noticed these things, things that were so obvious to him, but in reality were probably minute differences in his expression. But he looked at him so much these days that his inner catalogue of Spockisms was growing, and he was happy to fill it. 

Spock’s gaze shifted over to Jim for a moment- only a moment- and their eyes met.

It never failed to send that shivery feeling through his nerves, those dark eyes were so deep and warm, and he saw love in them now. A look wasn’t just a look anymore; even as Spock’s concentration turned back to Uhura, Jim felt that gaze on him. He couldn’t help how much Spock made him want to scream out loud that he loved him, he couldn’t help that flutter of heat that ran through his body right to the tips of his ears, he couldn’t help wanting to crawl across this bar table and kissing him and terrifying everyone else in this stupid place.

_No. Don’t think about that right now._

He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. Thinking about this sort of thing in public was definitely not a good idea. Thinking about how warm he was, even though he had such cool skin, thinking about kissing the nape of his neck in the morning, the way his cheeks blushed green ever so slightly, or his serious, smouldering expression when he wanted to kiss him, or the sight of his messed up hair in the morning, or the shivers it gave him when he stroked his spine, or-

_Stop thinking about that stuff, stop,_ he thought fervently. _Ok, ok, what’s not sexy, think of something not sexy-_

-or the way he got all flustered when he kissed his fingers, or the way he looked all covered in mud, or his soft, lost expression when he said th’y’la for the first time, or the way he gripped his thigh when they were kissing (which had actually left a pretty kinky bruise), or-

_Klingons. Klingons eating Targ. No- no what are those weird massive slug acid things- Hortas-_

Scotty’s drunken rant snapped him out of it, thankfully. “You’re all wrong, lad, Gaelic is the most beautiful language out there-”

Of course this got everyone’s attention. 

“Prove it,” Bones challenged him, waving an empty glass towards him. “If a language can say ‘I love you’ without making you want to hurl yourself underneath the prize horse at the derby, _then_ it’s beautiful.”

Scotty leaned back his seat and crossed his arms, looking into the distance with a drunk smile. “ _Tha gaol agam ort._ ”

“Tch,” Bones waved him off dismissively. “It’s fine, it’s not French but at least it’s no German-”

“ _Je t’aime, ich liebe dich, te amo, ai shiteru…_ ” Jim counted them off his hand, trying not to throw a cheeky glace at Spock. 

Sulu turned round, to find Chekov chatting nervously with a girl, who was laughing at every single thing he said, it seemed. He wobbled on the spot, grinning like an idiot. “Hey, Chekov!”

Chekov looked around deliriously before finding the direction which Sulu’s voice had come from. He waved. “Sulu! Mr Kirk, sir! I-”

“Chekov, how d’you say I love you in Russian?” Bones demanded from across the room and over the music. It sounded strange coming from him- the question was so light hearted, but his voice sounded gravelly and cynical. 

“ _Ya tebya lyublyu! YA TEBYA LYUBLUUUU! YA lyublyu vas, rebyata ! Spasibo, chto nashli menya segodnya vecherom , g-n Kirk , ya obeshchayu , ya ne vypil tak mnogo, ser_ -” he cried, spreading his arms out wide. Jim didn’t know what he was saying, but he guessed it was something along the lines of the drunk “I love you guys” speech.

Bones sat back in his seat lazily. “Well either that boy’s more drunk than I thought, or the Russian language sounds like your tongue’s been given 100ccs of procaine.”

“What about Romulan?” Sulu asked. “Or Klingon?”

“Romulan’s… Romulan, Romulan…” Jim closed his eyes and clicked his fingers. “ _Jol-ao au_.”

“That’s not so bad,” Sulu contemplated.

“What’s it in Klingon, Uhura?”

Uhura thought, laughing along with their childish game. “They don’t really say it that much. _QamuSHa’_.”

Jim laughed, leaning forward in his seat. “I think that’s beautiful. Bones, don’t you think that’s beautiful?”

“Sounds like a Klingon choking on _gagh_ ,” Bones shook his head sadly. Then he turned his head slowly to face Spock, who’d been silent for the whole conversation. He gave him his slyest smile. Never a good sign. “Say, Spock, how d’you say ‘I love you’ in Vulcan?”

Spock returned with his strongest death stare. “The fact that you are asking me, instead of Uhura, who knows the answer just as well as I do, indicates that you are more determined to put me in an uncomfortable position than to further your understanding of the Vulcan language, therefore I see no reason why I should answer, doctor McCoy.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t any such phrase,” Bones rambled, leaning back into his seat again. “Vulcans wouldn’t understand the trials and tribulations of _love._ ” Spock obviously didn’t think there was any point in arguing (which was unusual considering their relationship), and Uhura didn’t feel like there was any reason in satisfying Bones by giving him an answer. Thankfully, instead, Bones changed the subject. “God, Jim, get that boy home, he’s practically falling over his feet.”

Jim turned round. Chekov seemed to professing his love to one particular girl, who appeared flustered if not very flattered. He was definitely drunk enough. 

“Probably a good idea.”

“ _This_ was _not_ a good idea, Jim,” Bones reprimanded him like he was his father, gesticulating wildly towards Chekov. Scotty had fallen asleep in his chair and was snoring, head lulling forward. Sulu was in fits of giggles watching him slide off his seat. “The boy’s 17, what the hell is he even doing here?”

“I must agree with McCoy in this instance,” Spock added. “It was an irresponsible act of ill judgement.”

Jim looked from one to the other with raised eyebrows in surprise. Uhura covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “Well,” Jim began, innocently. “I suppose you’re right. How can I say no to you both?” A pause for effect… “I forget how alike you two are sometimes.”

The looks he got in reply were priceless. Spock’s eyes widened in surprise at such an insult, eyebrows practically hidden underneath his bangs. Bones just looked like he’d been asked to solve a long division sum in his head. Jim laughed, his head rolling back, clapping his hands together. “Ahh, you should see your faces-”

“I’ll take him home,” Sulu volunteered, pushing Scotty back into his seat. “He lives on my way back anyway.”

“You’re a saint, Sulu,” Jim gave him a small salute as he waded through the crowd towards Chekov, who didn’t seem too pleased with Sulu’s interruption. “Although, honestly, I should probably hit the hay, too. Early start tomorrow.”

Spock stood up abruptly, a little too abruptly. His eyes widened slightly as he realised how eager this action made him appear, before he joined his hands behind his back. _Subtle, Spock. Good going._

“I too have an ‘early start’ tomorrow.” The clarification wasn’t exactly necessary, but at least it broke the awkward silence. Considering the fact that the only two people who were conscious/ present at the table at this point, other than Jim and Spock, knew about them… it was definitely more than a little awkward. Especially now that Uhura was biting back a giggle, and Bones was rolling his eyes and groaning in disgust. 

Jim finally stood up himself, extending his arms out for a hug. “Come on Bones, bring it in.”

Bones climbed out of his chair- wobbling slightly- and gave Jim a tight bear hug, slapping him on the back. “You look after yourself out there, you hear me? I want you back in one piece.”

“Ok, mom.”

“I’m being serious, Jim-” 

“I know,” he replied gently, slapping Bones on the arm affectionately. He swayed, almost toppled from the force, but caught the table just in time. “And easy on the bourbon.”

Bones didn’t even reply, he just waved him off and slumped back down in his seat. 

Spock waited behind Jim, as he hugged Uhura, and said his goodbyes. “Let me know how it all goes,” she said in a hushed tone when her face was conveniently placed beside his ear. Jim knew she wasn’t referring to the USS _Republic_. When she pulled away, there was a glint in her eye.

Jim waved to them both. I didn’t seem like there was any point in trying to wake Scotty up. If the music wasn’t waking him up, he doubted anything else would. He turned round, and walked beside Spock on their way out. 

“That was fun. I’m glad I could see them before I-”

Jim didn’t finish his sentence.

It was name which he hadn’t heard in almost 8 years, and to hear it now, of all times, and in all places, cut him short. It was like being smacked in the gut with a metaphorical sledgehammer, so that he didn’t only stop his sentence midway, but he also stood perfectly still. His throat tightened and his stomach tensed, as if he were about to vomit. Cadet Johnson and Gallagher; they were known for causing fights where none was warranted, and Jim had given them enough satisfaction in the past by throwing a few punches. But this was different. He had no idea they could ever stoop so _low_ -

“I heard he’s a Tarsus IV survivor.”

Everything went by in slow motion. The people were blurred, the music was muffled. But there were many things he was aware of. He was aware of his arm gripping Spock for the sudden need for support. He was aware that Spock’s entire body had tensed up in fury. He was aware of the two cadets just ahead of them, speaking loudly enough that they knew he and Spock could pick up their conversation. He could see them leaning against a table side by side, so casual and arrogant, he tried not to look at them, tried not to make any contact, just let it blow over, they’re not worth it-

“Tragic,” Gallagher replied, without a hint of sympathy. “Imagine the _anger_ he must feel… his father, the great George Kirk was there the whole time, and _all_ those _people_ he didn’t save…”

A silent, lethal rage wrapped itself around Jim. His thoughts struggled to push past it, his rational mind gasping its last breath before it was suffocated by fury. How _dare_ they talk about his father. How _dare_ they taunt him like this, use such sick methods just to provoke him. He forced his anger to blinker him towards the door. Don’t look. Just keep walking. Don’t give them the satisfaction over something that means so much more than just a stupid bar fight. His grip on Spock’s arm tightened. His teeth were grinding, to the point that he was already giving himself a migraine. He wanted to strangle them, beat them to a pulp, more than anything, but he knew that if he gave in, he wouldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop smashing their tiny pointless heads into the goddamn table, he wanted to and he could never loose control like that, because there was a worryingly large possibility that he’d kill them. And they weren’t worth destroying his life for. 

“Yeah, but what about the _guilt_?” Johnson drawled, clearly drunk. “I mean, all those people who died… his own parents, and _he_ survived… it makes you think, doesn’t it? Like… why did _he_ deserve to live more than anyone else…” 

One moment he felt Spock at his side, a solid statue of fury- the next, time sped up again, too quickly, so quickly he didn’t see him move. 

It was unfortunate for Johnson that he’d said this just as they were walking by them. It was unfortunate for him that Spock was walking on the side closest to them. It was also unfortunate for him that he’d pissed of his Vulcan boyfriend.

Spock had wrenched himself from Jim’s grip. He had charged towards them with such unexpected ferocity that they’d stumbled back. They were practically pinned to the table now, as he towered over them, trapped them. He was only slightly taller than either of them, and not as well built, but right now he loomed over them like a long shadow in a street lamplight. His fists were clenched by his sides, perfectly still, knuckles white. His eyes were practically black, in the darkness of the room. He looked at them like any human would if they’d found something unpleasant stuck to their shoes, but Spock wasn’t fully human. He knew how to control hatred, but right now, it seemed, he didn’t have that control. Right now, his body was menacingly still, rife with loathing. It was as if he were ready to pounce, but it wasn’t like he was a predator ready to slaughter his prey. He held absolutely no value towards these cadets, not like a predator did its prey in order to survive; no. It was more like an alpha protecting his pack. 

Primitive.

Terrifying.

He stayed perfectly still, his face perilously close to Johnson’s, who was standing his ground, jaw jutted outwards in childish tenacity, but the fear in his eyes was obvious. It was almost piteous. 

“I advise that in the future you consider your words more wisely, cadet,” Spock said evenly. There was a snarl fighting it’s way out of the back his throat. “Your insolence and cowardice will not serve you well.” 

No one moved for a good 5 seconds. The meaning of his words gradually settled into Johnson’s inebriated, already limited brain. If there were such a thing as a Vulcan death threat, that was as close as anyone would ever get.

And then Spock swept away, quicker than Jim had anticipated, so that he was lost in the crowd.

The two cadets were frozen on the spot, not yet recovered from the pure loathing that they’d just been made subject too, more threatening than any bar fight they’d been expecting. But Jim didn’t care about them anymore, not even a bit. Spock was gone, he was angry, and it was Jim’s fault.

_“You have made me feel more than I could ever have anticipated.”_

That was what he’d said that night. That was what he’d said, and now he had some uncontrollable urge to protect him and it was because of him. He was practically tearing Spock apart and now he was gone and probably hating everything Jim had ever done to him. He was gone and suddenly Jim was taken by a paralyzing, nauseating fear that he wasn’t coming back.

_No._

He leapt into action, his ‘everything’s-under-control-just-keep-calm’ strut completely lost, forgotten. He pushed into the crowd, forcing his way through them without a word, without hearing any of the complaints, without recognising a single person. Eventually he darted outside. His head darted from side to side, he span round on the spot. 

“Spock!”

He took a deep breath and paused, people pushing past him. _Ok. Think rationally. This is Spock. He isn’t going to go far. He’s just gonna go straight home. GO._

He broke into a sprint. He wove through the Friday night crowd easily, the adrenaline pushing him faster than he’d ever run before. Just like that day on the beach, he thought, until shook the memory away with a growl. Spock always made him run faster, chase after him. In all honestly, he’d run to the ends of the universe for him. 

He crossed the road, almost getting hit by a hovercar. But he didn’t, so he kept running. He let his legs take him through the familiar streets, whilst his mind worked into overload. _He must hate me, he must hate me for making him like this, what have I done? He’s going tomorrow but he can’t leave he can’t leave I can’t be alone again I-_

 _You are his th’y’la_ , another voice said in his head. It was his own voice, but he didn’t recognise it as his own. _He’s not going to leave you._

_I did this to him._

_He is devoted to you._

_What would I do without him-_

_He will not leave you._

He choked as the desperation stabbed him in the gut, his short breaths making it worse although he couldn’t feel his body as he ran. He felt his feet hit the ground hard, and he knew that he was in pain but he couldn’t feel it. He ran under the lamplights, his shadow darting in and out in and out as he sprinted underneath each of one of them, squinting through the dark until-

“SPOCK-”

The figure stopped his fast pace abruptly, and bowed his head. His black hair and dark clothes made him difficult to make out at first, but as he half turned towards Jim- who ran even faster now- his skin was pale, bright in the artificial light. His hair was wet, dripping water into his eyelashes, so he had to blink them shut.

Jim had noticed it was raining before, but it was such a small detail that it barely crossed his mind. He finally slowed his pace to a jog, his heavy breathing catching up with him and stopped in front of Spock, who turned to face him fully. His jaw was tense. His eyes were sad. 

_Oh God. Spock, I’m so sorry…_

He swallowed and gasped for air, aware of the rain precluding his vision, his steamy breath fogging up the space between them. Spock looked at the ground, hands by his side. Like a guilty child. Jim stretched out a hand to grip his arm, but took it back again. He shook his head helplessly. That desperation was squeezing his heart now and all he could do was wave his hands in the air uselessly, trying to grab the words to say how sorry he was, how much he needed him.

“Spock… I… Spock…”

He shook his head in frustration, his breathing shallow, but no longer because he was out of breath. He tilted his head up to the sky, the rain dripping down his face and into his mouth. When he looked back down again, he took Spock’s hand in both of his.

_Spock. Spock I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry just please don’t go-_

It worked. Spock could feel what he was feeling, even with the wet film of rain between their hands, because he drew Jim closer suddenly, and brushed his hair away from his forehead, his hand cradling his face. He loomed over him, but now it it was in protection, with the instinctive desperation to hold Jim close. 

“You are not, and never shall be alone,” Spock spoke fiercely, his eyes still angry, frightening. He tilted his head, reading Jim’s emotions. He stroked his face gently. “Never again.”

_Don’t leave-_

“I will never leave you.”

_I love you Spock, God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry-_

“ _Th’y’la_ ,” he said simply. His eyebrows pulled together.

_I’m sorry I pulled you into this, I-_

“We are part of one another,” he replied. As if to say, you didn’t pull me in, this is part of me too.

_You deserve so much better, but-_

“ _Th’y’la_ ,” he repeated gently. 

_I can’t let you go._

“I will never leave you.” His voice was strained. Guilty. 

Jim felt his chest and stomach convulse, forcing him to cry, an old feeling he hadn’t experienced since he was 13. He swallowed it back, his eyes squeezed shut. Keeping it all in. Keeping the rain out. Neither of them had noticed if anyone was walking by them. Fortunately no one was, but if there had been they wouldn’t have realised, or cared. Jim let his head lull forwards, and Spock rested his own against it, supporting him. Jim exhaled shakily, a steamy breath flowering between their faces. 

His devastation washed away in the rain. It fell apart, as he felt a sense of calm replace it. Whether Spock was actively sending him soothing feelings through his touch telepathy, or if it was merely his presence, it didn’t matter. He was here. 

“You are a part of me.” Spock murmured. Jim opened his eyes, but didn’t move. “Leaving you now would be as impossible as separating my own soul from my being.”

Jim touched his cheek gently. They were slightly green, freezing cold. “We should go inside, you’re gonna freeze.” His voice came out quiet and gravelly, like it hadn’t been used in hours. 

Spock nodded slightly, as Jim led him quickly through the rain, still holding his hand in one of his. He could feel his hand quivering- whether that was because he was still angry, or because he was cold, Jim couldn’t tell, but either way he didn’t want to keep him hanging round in the rain. To him, it wasn’t cold- in fact San Francisco had a tendency to get quite humid- but for a Vulcan, who wasn’t used to rain, it must have been. They didn’t speak as Jim bundled him into the building, holding his hand meant that they both knew that they were there, and that was all that mattered, nothing more needed to be said. 

It was Midnight, so people had either left to go out, or were too late and were wondering round aimlessly and drunkenly without any sort of plan. They were drunk enough that they didn’t notice Jim pull Spock past them by the hand, up the stairs and to his dorm. 

He slammed the door behind them, and finally let go of his hand. He evaluated his situation, not dissimilarly to the way Spock did, looking him up and down sternly. Spock stood there a little like a toy soldier, arms stretched out slightly to his sides to avoid his sleeves dripping on him. His jumper was saturated, and was dripping rapidly on the floor. His hair was drenched too, so that little drops of water rolled down his nose. He looked like a cat would when it comes in from the rain, his hair clinging to his face in a way that didn’t look like Spock. He was shivering, and he couldn’t help it. That was a physical reaction that he couldn’t stop.

Jim came to a logical conclusion. “Take off your clothes.”

Spock’s slightly disgruntled expression didn’t falter.

“Your clothes are wet, you’re cold, you’re cold because they’re wet- take them off,” he went through the explanation logically. “I’m not having you get a cold the night before your first mission. Off. Now.”

Spock opened his mouth to retort, but gave in, knowing that this was actually a good idea if he wanted to warm up. Jim turned round towards his chest of drawers, shivering himself slightly now, and threw out a few sweaters- one for himself, two for Spock- a couple of pyjama bottoms, and a pile of socks. And a beanie for good measure. He debated whether he could turn back around again, or whether he should allow Spock some privacy-

Then it occurred to him that a towel would be a good plan, too. He threw off his shirt, which had been clinging to him, and chucked it somewhere in the corner. He’d deal with that some other time. He’d probably come back months to find it mouldy somewhere in his room but oh well. He grabbed a hand towel off the bathroom rail, and turned back to hand it to Spock.

It took all Jim’s power not to stop in his tracks, since it came as such a shock to see Spock in his pyjama bottoms, topless, hair dripping. He didn’t know why it would shock him, since he was aware that he was changing, but it was a strange image. And one he actually kind of liked, but he wasn’t going to mention that now. He handed Spock the towel first, and slid his hands under his arm pits to warm them up. Spock didn’t seem perturbed by the fact that he was seeing him without clothes on; maybe because he’d already seen him without certain other layers of the Vulcan type before. Nonetheless, Jim tried not to _stare_. And he didn’t. But he couldn’t help but notice how slender he was- he was toned, but like the way Jim was- the slight tint of green because he was cold, a little dark hair on his chest… but he wasn’t looking. 

Jim took the towel from him when he’d dried his hair- which looked so weird when it was that mussed up, without a fringe- and put on the two jumpers he’d provided. Jim pointed to the bed, his head bent down and the other hand towel drying it. He didn’t see Spock comply, be could hear him wordlessly obey and settle underneath the covers. 

Jim didn’t care so much if Spock saw him undressing- in other circumstances he’d enjoy it, but now wasn’t really the time- and he threw off his trousers in disregard, pulling on some pyjama bottoms and a hoodie. Once he’d put some socks on, he made his way to join Spock under the duvet- bringing the beanie along with him. He shuffled into a comfortable position, covering their heads with the duvet so it was warm and dark.

“Put it on,” he demanded. He couldn’t see Spock’s exact reaction, but he expected there was an eyebrow raise in there somewhere. “You loose most of your head through your head. Or at least you do if your fully human, I dunno.” He paused. “Also I kinda wanna see you wear it.”

Spock took it. “That is, for the most part, a logical argument. However, it is likely your human eyes cannot see me with the duvet covering us like this.”

“Yeah, well, I’m putting your health first here.”

“It is appreciated.”

They didn’t speak for a few moments, their breaths warming the nest they’d made quickly. 

“I’m sorry about tonight, Spock.”

At first, there was no reply. “If I had not felt your thoughts not long ago, I would have been lost as to why you are apologising.” He paused. “Now that I know, your apology is no more required.”

Jim felt through the dark, until he found Spock’s hand. He mindless stroked it, feeling his way around it as if he’d never felt a hand before. “I’m your _th’y’la,_ ” he stated, like a child.

“Yes.”

Jim knew what that meant now, better than before. They really were meant to be together. There was no doubt about that. But the fear was still there, always there. “I’m still sorry. About what those bastards said, what I’ve… made you feel and do-”

“Jim,” he barely said it, it wasn’t a whisper, but it was close. His hand followed up Jim’s arm, to his face, his damp hair clinging to it. “For the first time in my life, I am happy.”

Jim’s throat tightened and his stomach jolted slightly, making a sound that was a cross between a cough and a laugh. What could he say to that? There was nothing he could say. He loved him and he made him happy and it was more than he could have ever hoped for him to say or feel. His eyes stung.

Spock slid his arm to Jim’s back and pulled him towards him, settling his chin over his head, Jim’s face in the crook of Spock’s neck. He curled up into him, and Spock held him. There were no comments about how this was logical, to keep each other warm. Instead, Jim drifted into sleep in Spock’s arms, thinking only one thing.

_I love you. Don’t let me go._

“I will not let you go,” Spock murmured into his damp hair. “I will not let you go.”

_Don’t let me go…_

“I will not let you go…”


	7. Spock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have a lot of Balls/dances at my university, St Andrews. I was inspired.

Spock sat upright in his seat, as always, posture perfect- despite the fact that his body was bruised from the inside and out. At least he had the Vulcan ability to control pain- although sometimes, when he was asleep, that control would lapse and he’d wake up suddenly, under the attack of his splintered ribs.

The news of what had happened on Rigel VII spread quickly. On the scale of Starfleet fatalities, three crewmen killed and seven severely injured was not a major loss; however it had affected captain Pike badly. The atmosphere during their return home from the Vega Colony, where they’d received medical attention, was strained. There were rumours that the captain was considering resigning. Spock had worked along side him these past two months, and knew the weight that was resting on his shoulders; he had held the responsibility to save those three crewmen’s lives, too. But he found it hard to believe that Pike would so easily give up captaincy because of this; he was not the type of man. 

Pike had asserted that the reason only three members of his crew had died under the Rigellan siege was because of Spock’s help and loyalty. Spock argued that he had only done what he had been taught- what was best for the ship and its crew. This didn’t stop Pike from showing him gratitude. 

“The Enterprise deserves some young blood,” he said. “Kids like you, and Jim Kirk need to be running her. You know, if I hadn’t seen just how well you two work together, you and I might’ve ended up a team. But… I’ve had my time on the Enterprise.”

It appeared that Pike had decided he’d seen his fair share of bloodshed. Or at least, he thought it was time to hand over Starfleet’s flagship down to the next generation; it appeared he now had complete trust in Spock. And Spock found that he had complete trust in Pike. Working alongside him had been a privilege- and so, if Pike’s wish was to hand over his ship to him and Kirk, he would allow it and do as asked, as the diligent, dedicated officer that he was. Like a role model, Spock had come to aspire, to care for Pike.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever see Pike again. 

Now he was on the shuttle to San Francisco, sitting upright in his seat, his PADD on his lap.

Of course, when Jim saw the news, Spock found his inbox flooded. It was not only Jim who had been concerned- his parents, Uhura, Scotty, even McCoy had emailed to check on his physical well-being. However, Jim’s emails were the ones which arrived first, and without any apparent cessation, until Spock replied.

Now, his PADD flashed awake. 

_Can’t wait to see you._

Spock inconspicuously evaluated his surroundings. He did not want anyone reading their conversation, no matter the subject.

_Two months is a short amount of time in relation to missions, however it has certainly made the distance between us more noticeable._

_Could’ve just said I’ve missed you_

There was a pause before another reply.

_I mean that literally means what you’ve just said except far more verbally economic, which is surely the more logical way to go about things, right_

Spock frowned a little, peering down at his PADD, his head still upright. _Verbal economy does not equate to logic._

_Yeah well_

Another short pause.

_yeah well so’s your face_

Spock frowned more visibly now. Human colloquialisms never failed to evade him. _Please explain the meaning of your last comment._

_oh my god it’s just a stupid comeback for when you can’t be bothered to argue with someone_

Spock was growing more and more confused by the second. _You are not the type to deny the opportunity for debate._

There was a long moment of hesitation, and Spock could see an ellipsis on the screen, showing that Jim was typing, retyping, reconsidering his words. It wasn’t often that Spock stunted Jim’s argumentative streak like this; however, it seemed that Jim, despite usually being a particularly eloquent man, was not so articulate when talking to Spock alone.

_I’m just excited to see you Spock you know im too on edge to argue about verbal economy_

Spock’s frown was apparently not fading. _Am I right to assume that you are implying that my company puts you on edge._

_UhhhhhhhhUGHHhhhghhh_

Spock tilted his head.

_when you say stuff like that yeah_

He waited for an explanation. The ellipsis appeared on his screen again as Jim began typing. 

_look im excited to see you it’s been two months of me following Lt. Finney everywhere, trying not to be an arrogant dick because im an ensign not a captain and escaping near death experiences, and on top of that you’ve been beaten up badly yourself and I just want to see you for myself to make sure your ok_

Spock believed he understood now. _You are experiencing human anticipation because of the past two month’s events._

_well yeah, aren’t you_

_I am not ‘on edge’ as you have said, however I am looking forward to seeing you again._

_that’s anticipation. missing someone_

_In human terms, yes._

_No, just in general terms, Spock. That’s just what it means. Looks like we’re back to verbal economy again_

_Indeed._

_You’re landing in ten minutes, am I bugging you by messaging you_

_You are not ‘bugging’ me, if I have understood the term correctly._

_cool_

There was a long pause. The sensation of the ship dropping lower through the Earth’s atmosphere made him feel a little light headed. 

_I have emphasised that you are not ‘bugging’ me by messaging me, and yet you have stopped nonetheless._

_I’m sorry i’m just getting all nervous_

_Is nervousness a normal reaction to a partner’s homecoming?_

_partner woah_

_sorry it’s just weird seeing you say that_

Spock was about to sigh, but checked himself. _Explain._

_well it’s just that you’ve never referred to me as anything other than you or him or Jim before you know_

_also yeah it is normal. It doesn’t make sense but it’s normal. I suppose it’s because we haven’t seen each other for a long time and so things might have changed_

Spock blinked. _Do you believe the status of our relationship has changed?_

_no no no that’s not what I meant I just_

_it’s like, we haven’t seen each other in so long that a lot has happened and there are things we might have to relearn about each other. I dunno its like I said it’s illogical ok_

Spock hesitated, fingers hovering above the touch screen. _If it is reassurance you seek, that you may find comfort in knowing that my feelings towards you remain unchanged._

Jim didn’t reply for 0:56 seconds. Spock’s muscles were beginning to ache, despite his Vulcan control- although he would not mention it. If it meant avoiding Doctor McCoy’s attention, he would conceal his discomfort. 

_Me too. And reassurance appreciated._

Jim was a confident, all round happy man; however he did have his insecurities. 

_and you should know, I might not be quite so reserved as you when you get off the shuttle, be prepared for me to launch myself at you_

_Have I said something to elicit such an attack?_

_sarcastic smartass_

Spock lifted an eyebrow. He had not been aware that he was employing the use of sarcasm. However, now that he had used it himself in context, he had a slightly better understanding of such a complex lexical tool. 

_ok I’m gonna go, I don’t want to be that guy_

_Your lack of specificity to which ‘guy’ you are discussing makes it difficult for me to reply to such a comment._

__Jim hesitated for longer than usual. Spock assumed that he was laughing. He often found his confusion at Earth Standard language to be amusing._ _

_I don’t wanna be clingy. Im seeing you in a couple of minutes so yeah_

_soooo bye, until 5 minutes time_

_Until then._

__Spock put his PADD away, which allowed him to reflect on the strange tightness in his chest and elevated heart-rate. Perhaps he had inadvertently lied, when he had said that he was not nervous- although he believed that the sensation was most likely excitement. As Jim had stated, two months was a long time to be apart, so soon after they had started seeing each other romantically; they had a lot to catch up on._ _

__Spock _had_ missed him. He had missed studying with him, he had missed receiving drunk messages from him, the flirtation, his warmth, his very presence. To be apart from one’s th’y’la was an unpleasant experience._ _

__And now he was going to see him again, and it did not feel quite real._ _

__As soon as the shuttle doors opened, he saw him in the small crowd. Perhaps it was the fact that he was at the front of the crowd, or maybe because his golden hair was reflecting the San Francisco sun- but Spock spotted him immediately, and instantly made his way towards him as if the tide were pulling him in._ _

__He was shielding his eyes with his hand from the sun, squinting even under the shade he had created, his head tilted. He grinned as Spock walked towards him._ _

__Spock merely stood in front of him, as if to soak up the sight of him, and to allow Jim the same opportunity. Jim’s smile faded._ _

__“Ow.”_ _

__“You are commenting on the bruise on my jaw.”_ _

__“Yeah. They beat you up bad,” he said seriously. He looked at him for another moment, before spontaneously hugging him; it was so sudden, with so much energy put into it that Spock would have been knocked backwards, if he were not part Vulcan and therefore a little sturdier. Jim wrapped his arms around his waist, face nestled in Spock’s shoulder. He did not appear to care that other people were here; no one actually seemed to notice. And Spock found that he did not care either, hesitantly returning the embrace by placing one hand on Jim’s back. However, Jim’s hands were wrapped around him so tightly that his ribs were starting to hurt more than Spock could hide._ _

__He’d been holding his breath slightly, and coughed slightly in reaction to his torso being so restricted in addition to his internal injuries. Jim pulled back, looking a little panicked._ _

__“Oh, God, I’m sorry-”_ _

__“You have no reason to apologise, you were not the one who broke three of my ribs.”_ _

__“You broke three of your _ribs_?” Jim replied vehemently. “Spock, you didn’t tell me that-”_ _

__“I thought it best to keep the information to myself, so that you not trouble yourself when we were apart-”_ _

__“Those sons of bitches,” Jim interrupted, and didn’t seem to be listening to Spock’s reasoning right now. “How come you don’t look like you’ve just broken three of your ribs?”_ _

__“Vulcans have the ability to accelerate healing whilst in an unconscious state.”_ _

__“That’s… handy,” Jim replied simply, looking mildly impressed. He looked up at him, Spock’s shadow allowing him to do so without wincing. A familiar smile grew slowly across his face, as he looked into Spock’s eyes, as if once again versing himself in Spock’s appearance. “Listen,” he said suddenly, “you wanna get some lunch? The cafeteria’s still open.”_ _

__Spock tilted his head slightly. He’d forgotten how relaxed he felt around Jim. “Would this count as what humans call a ‘date’?”_ _

__Jim’s eyebrows rose and his mouth hung open for a second longer than Spock thought he had anticipated. “Well- sure. If- yeah, sure.”_ _

__Spock’s lips pursed slightly as he measured Jim’s reply. “Your reply contradicts your tone, which implies that you are _un_ sure.”_ _

__Jim shrugged slightly. “I dunno, it’s just, I suppose the cafeteria isn’t exactly a romantic setting for… well, what would technically be our first date.”_ _

__Spock’s eyebrow twitched upwards. “What are the technicalities for a first date? It appears to me that we may have already been on one, since we have often spent time with each other after our relationship became of the romantic type.”_ _

__“I… don’t really know, I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, finally turning round and making his way to the cafeteria. Spock followed. “I suppose we don’t really follow the rules when it comes to relationships, either. We kinda skipped that first part, didn’t we?”_ _

__Spock’s hands would have met behind his back, as they usually did, but the luggage he was carrying over his shoulder was in the way. “Perhaps we should retrace our steps.”_ _

__Jim apparently noticed Spock’s discomfort, as he stepped in front of him, walking backwards as he did. “Hey, let me take that.”_ _

__“I can carry it sufficiently myself.”_ _

__Jim gave him an expression that suggested he believed otherwise. “Come on. You’re injured, hand it over. That’s an order.”_ _

__Spock’s eyebrows shot up. “You are not my superior just yet, Jim.”_ _

__“Yeah but I am your boyfriend, and I have certain duties that way.” He stretched out his hand, still walking backwards. His eyebrows raised, mimicking Spock’s expression. “Come on! Hand it over, Spock.”_ _

__Spock stopped, and reluctantly slid it off his shoulder; however, he did not deny that he appreciated being alleviated of even such a light weight. His body was not at its optimum strength._ _

__When they reached the cafeteria, it was half full. It was strange for Spock to return, after having spent time in space; the academy seemed so small, now, and it occurred to him that most of the people in this room had no idea what would await them once they graduated. The universe held more than any of them could imagine- Spock knew that now. And so did Jim._ _

__Once they’d found a table that allowed them a certain level of privacy, Jim immediately started dipping his bread in his soup, when he’d barely sat down. It appeared that he was hungry._ _

“Are there any stories you wish to relay to me, concerning your time on the _USS Republic_?”

__“Mmm,” Jim began, his mouth full, “I’ve already told you everything, I thought you’d be bored to death, since I was messaging you practically everyday with updates.”_ _

__“I thought perhaps, that you and the crew members with whom you became friends might have celebrated before your departure.”_ _

__Jim laughed, tearing off another piece of bread. “Yeah, I probably gave you the sense that I was there just having a great time, but I did a lot of hard work too.”_ _

__“I was not implying that you did not,” Spock replied._ _

__“I’m really glad I did it,” he contemplated, thoughtlessly swirling the bread in his soup. “I mean, I got to be on the bridge now and then and set the coordinates, which was amazing- but a lot of it was just paperwork, bringing the captain things to fill out, running around the ship sending messages, that sort of thing. And you know, if I’m going to be a captain one day, I need to be able to empathise with my whole crew. It’s good to start out at the bottom, and see how the ship really works, if you see what I mean. Like, the little things that keep it moving, that the captain rarely sees.” He dropped the bread in the bowl and spooned some more soup into his mouth, looking over Spock’s shoulder as he thought. “I  
think it’s been an important experience for me. I think it would be for any hopeful-future captain.”_ _

__“I agree,” Spock replied, who’d been eating whilst Jim was speaking. He had not realised how hungry he was, either. Now that the excitement and nerves had worn off, it was more apparent._ _

__“I mean, we did still have a few drinks before I left,” Jim shrugged, with a crooked smile._ _

__His smile; Spock could not forget during his two month mission, the way his smile sent shivers of golden ripples through his mind, an echo of their telepathic connection. “Of course,” he replied, his eyebrow arched slightly._ _

__Jim’s hand stopped, spoon hovering in front of his mouth as he caught sight of something. “Looks like our date’s been cut short.”_ _

__Spock turned round in curiosity; McCoy, Uhura and Mr Scott had spotted them. “Apparently so.”_ _

__McCoy seemed more irate than usual. He stormed ahead of Uhura and Scott, his medical kit swinging vehemently on it’s strap and bouncing off him as he walked. He dropped his food tray loudly and overdramatically beside Spock, who looked up at him with an expression that demanded an explanation for his behaviour. McCoy replied with wild, manic eyes._ _

__“I thought I told you to look after yourself, you careless, Vulcan hobgoblin!” He snarled, pulling out several medical implements to read Spock’s health. He scanned him, walking from one side to the other, ignoring the fact that they were in a cafeteria rather than a doctor’s office. “You leave for a few weeks and then you come back with all your insides jumbled up- or at least I think they are, I don’t understand your Vulcan anatomy,” he said, as if this were an insult towards Spock._ _

__“I need not explain, doctor, that my current predicament was unavoidable, and so your resentment is unwarranted-”_ _

__“Shut up for a second, would you? You’ve only just got back and you can’t even let me get a decent reading.”_ _

__Spock sighed internally, and had to restrain from rolling his eyes. “As ever, doctor, it is a pleasure to have your company.”_ _

__Finally, Uhura and Mr Scott arrived, sitting beside Jim._ _

__“Is he already giving you trouble, Spock?” Uhura asked with a cheeky smile._ _

__“Apparently, I am giving him trouble, by hindering his ability to ‘get a decent reading’,” Spock replied with heavy sarcasm. “It appears little has changed, since we have been gone.”

"Barely anything,” she admitted. She was wearing her Starfleet uniform, and her hair was pinned up, in a way that was both professional and flattering. She slid her xenolinguistics notes aside, so that Mr Scott could fit his tray onto the table.

__“Well, we _have_ come on leaps and bounds with the transwarp research,” Scott began enthusiastically. _ _

__“No way,” Jim replied. “You gotta show me round the tech labs tomorrow, I wanna see what you’ve come up with.”_ _

__“It’s a miracle we’ve got anything done, mind- some of the people in that lab barely know one end of a screwdriver from the other, I tell you…”_ _

__Spock found his concentration drifting, and didn’t fight against it. Jim sat opposite him, grinning and excited and happy, and it was a sight that he had missed sorely. He had grown during his travels on the the _Republic_ , he seemed even brighter than before. It was as if he were becoming more and more like the man he was destined to be, like the holes were filling up._ _

__Holes. Jim had never let those holes created from his past stop him; in fact, Spock was certain that it drove him. He let the pain simmer inside, fuelling him, pushing him to a better future._ _

__After that night two months ago, Spock had seen that pain first hand, had felt it. That night, when he’d held him in his arms, he had sensed his nightmares, he had felt the fear. And yet, Jim had never let that pain twist him; Spock was certain that in whatever universes may exist- even if he had suffered less in some, or worse in others- James Tiberius Kirk was a good man. The best man he knew._ _

__And now he was laughing, his eyes bright but distant, as he nudged Uhura playfully in reaction to a comment she’d made. He was happy. He never let his pain get the better of him. He was a miracle._ _

__Jim’s leg brushed against Spock as he crossed them, so that his calf rested against his. Spock did not move away._ _

__He had not realised how much he’d craved being close to him, until now._ _

__He wanted to take his hand, which was supporting his chin, elbow resting on the table edge, fingers tantalisingly close to his mouth. He wanted to re-establish their relationship after their long separation. He wanted to be able to express his affection for him without being afraid; and the more Jim became a part of his life, the more he felt he could._ _

__Spock decided that logically, there was no reason why he should not take the leap. McCoy and Uhura were already aware of their relationship. Scotty was the only one present who didn’t. It suddenly occurred to Spock that it wasn’t his friends, the other cadets, or even the professors knowing about them that scared him. It was the matter of telling his father._ _

__His mother had clearly had her suspicions for some time, and would only be happy for Spock. However, Sarek was not so accepting. They had barely spoken since he’d started at the academy; in fact, the only reason he’d been in San Francisco with Amanda over two months ago was because he was there for a meeting with the Earth Ambassador. He did not approve of Spock’s choice to explore his human heritage; if Spock were to tell him that he was engaged in a romantic relationship with a human, he had no doubts that Sarek would treat him with the same cold severity as he did with his brother Sybok. He also believed that if any other Vulcans found out, that they would also treat him with the same, near-xenophobic suspicion._ _

__But these people were not Vulcans. And he was only half Vulcan._ _

__That smile again. There was something about that easy, comfortable smile that made him remember the sensation of that golden ink twisting through his mind, giving him courage._ _

__“Bones! Bones, you have to ask her!”_ _

__Jim was animated, leaning forward across the table towards McCoy, who wasn’t looking at him. Jim had been determined for some time now to ‘set up’ Doctor McCoy; he had married young, and it had ended quickly. Since then, the doctor had avoided romantic pursuit with his usual cynicism- however Jim was tenacious. He did not give up on matters so lightly._ _

__“I am _not_ asking her to some goddamn dance,” Bones snarled, his eyebrows performing some spectacular facial acrobatics. “What in blue blazes is a Starfleet Academy doing putting on a _dance_ , anyhow?”_ _

__“It’s not a dance, it’s a ball, McCoy,” Uhura replied with quiet enthusiasm. “It’s not like high school.”_ _

__“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” McCoy ranted. “Give students enough alcohol and it may as well be like a goddamn _preschool_.”_ _

__“Oh, come on Bones, where’s your romantic side? I know it’s in there,” Jim teased, leaning further forward along the table and tapping the doctor in the chest._ _

__“Jim, you’re setting me up with a girl a barely know. Besides, there’s a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll go anyhow.”_ _

__“Oh come one, it’s just a wee dance and a bar full o’ drinks,” Mr Scott argued. McCoy was growing more and more irate by the second._ _

__Perhaps this was Spock’s chance to show his affection openly, without creating any unwanted attention- which public, physical affection _would_ cause. Perhaps there was a way he could more subtly reveal his contentment with their relationship being made known. _ _

__“You don’t have to have a date to go,” Uhura encouraged. However, it seemed that the doctor had exhausted his desire to argue any further, and appeared to be sulking._ _

__“It is, however, the tradition- is it not?”_ _

__The three of them looked at Spock in unison, surprised by his sudden decision to speak._ _

__“Aye, it is, Spock.”_ _

__Then the matter was settled._ _

__“Jim, would you care to accompany me to the End of Year Ball?”_ _

__Jim’s lips parted and his eyebrows slowly raised. He looked back at Spock, as if trying to work out why he’d asked that, if he’d meant what he’d meant, if he wanted to ask what he thought he was asking- it was an expression of shock and general confusion. His parted lips formed into a lopsided grin._ _

__“Yeah, I’d love to.”_ _

__“Oh, _God,_ in that case I’m _absolutely_ not going,” McCoy exclaimed, picking up his tray and leaving the table defiantly. _ _

__Uhura smiled to herself._ _

__Jim’s grin didn’t fade, as he scraped his bowl absent mindedly with his spoon._ _

__Scott appeared puzzled. “Hang on- just a wee _second_ …”_ _

__Spock didn’t show it, but he felt a strange buzz of pride._ _


	8. Kirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliciting positive responses.

It was amazing how few people commented on it. Jim had prepared himself for an onslaught of questions, interrogations even. He’d told himself that people wouldn’t take either of them as seriously anymore. He’d told himself not to be shocked if Pike didn’t want them working together anymore.

But it made hardly any difference. Occasionally there was the odd whisper or giggle when they walked through campus together. But honestly, the people that mattered treated them no differently. It was as if everyone knew it was going to happen anyway. In fact, it turned out some people had thought they’d been together for a lot longer than they actually had. Turned out the people around them were far more astute of their feelings towards each other than they were, which was a little embarrassing. Jim had never realised that he was so obvious. 

The couple of days after they’d returned to the academy were blissful, if not a little frustrating. Part of the enjoyment was the frustration, Jim had learned. On the one hand, they were open with each other in ways that they hadn’t been before- not just in public, but with each other. As Spock had promised, he showed Jim through the Vulcan mind meld the true meaning of _th’y’la_ ; it was a moment of clarity, peace, and unimaginable joy, euphoric like the climax of a favourite song. Since then, the bond that they had formed in seeing each others souls- their happiest memories, their deepest fears- seeing each other in their barest, most vulnerable state had made them immeasurably comfortable around each other. 

On the other hand, the long time they’d spent away from each other meant that they had to effectively start over with they whole physical intimacy thing. Going by the ‘little and often’ rule meant that Jim couldn’t just throw himself at Spock when he got home, although he was tempted. That was the frustrating part; they were both eager, but there was only so much they could actually do, without accidentally making Spock’s brain explode or something. 

But, since the rule was little and often, they took the ‘often’ part just as seriously as the little. During the first week back they spent more of their time together than apart- in fact, the majority of their days. Jim felt a little guilty about how little he was seeing his friends, but they were all busy anyway. So he only felt a little guilty. Plus, as Spock had pointed out with his usual astuteness, the more often they spent time with each other, the less the ‘little’ would apply. 

Now Jim’s head rested on Spock’s lap, as he lay along his bed. His knees were propped up, supporting his PADD. Spock sat up with his back against the wall, reading something off his own PADD beside him, whilst playing with Jim’s hair. Jim would say that this action was absent minded- something which was wildly uncharacteristic for a Vulcan, and yet, here Spock was, stroking his hair as he read some convoluted article about diplomacy in the Orion sector. Although the sensation was relaxing, he had to admit that he found it hard to concentrate on his essay. Good thing that he’d finished writing it now, although he doubted that it was as good as his previous ones, since when he’d written those ones, he wasn’t being petted by his Vulcan boyfriend.

He threw his PADD off his lap with a sigh and closed his eyes. This was pretty perfect. 

“I have informed my parents of our relationship.”

Well, it was.

Jim’s eyes snapped open, and he tilted his head back to get a better view of his face. “What? And? What did they say? Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this?”

“I thought it only necessary to tell you when the matter became relevant.”

What did _that_ mean? “What makes it more relevant now than it was before?”

“It is relevant now because I have ascertained their reactions to the news, whereas before I clearly had not.”

“ _Okay_ , so, what did they say?”

“My mother seemed… unsurprised,” he began. “Perhaps even pleased.”

“Hey, well that’s good news.” Jim narrowed his eyes. “Right?”

“Yes,” Spock continued, watching his hand stroke Jim’s hair more hestitantly now, the crease between his eyebrows becoming more defined. “However…”

“However,” Jim echoed with a sigh.

“However, as you know, my father is not so accepting.”

“Right, so which one is it- is it because I’m a messed up charity case with no family?”

“No, Jim-”

“It’s not- hang on, it’s not because I’m a _guy_ is it?”

“No.”

“Whew- man, I was gonna say, I know you guys are traditional, but- okay, moving on.” 

He paused. Spock sighed. He’d stopped stroking his hair and was looking at him distantly.

“I’m a human. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Spock sighed. “I am afraid that that may a be part of it.”

This time, Jim sighed. “Not much I can do about that, I’m afraid.”

“You misunderstand, Jim,” Spock said with sudden intensity. He cupped Jim’s face with contrasting gentleness. “My father’s disapproval is directed towards my actions, not you as a person. He is aware of your good character and your aptitude as a cadet. Therefore, logically, he has no reason to dislike you.” Spock paused. “It is my choices to pursue my human heritage- more than is acceptable by Vulcan standards- of which he does not approve.”

“Right. So, it’s as much of a problem that it’s a… _human relationship_ … you know, with everything that a human relationship implies…as well as just being a relationship _with_ a human.”

“Perhaps,” Spock replied quietly. 

Jim examined Spock’s expression. That little crease in his brow. He was anxious. He was looking at him, but it was a distant gaze, like he was recalling memories- perhaps ones of conversations with his father.

“But you’re dad _married_ a human. And he’s fully Vulcan.”

“Indeed,” Spock replied thoughtfully. ““I must clarify, Jim, that my father is not discriminatory towards humans; he has married a human, and is the Ambassador for Earth. That he begrudges you for your humanity, is impossible. He is… merely displeased that I have rejected so much of my Vulcan upbringing.” He paused. “I once asked, why he had chosen to marry my mother. He told me that it was the logical thing to do.” He blinked, and his frown deepened. “However, I have always had my suspicions that he cares for my mother more deeply than he would ever show.”

Jim laid his hand on Spock’s which was still cupping his face. He had never told him about him and his father, and how they had not spoken in years- or at least, he had never told him with words. Jim had seen it, in their Vulcan mind meld. Spock had enrolled in Starfleet, instead of following his father’s teachings, which had been passed down for generations. Spock had rejected Vulcan tradition. The memory of his father’s words haunted him still, and rang in Jim’s head now.

_So human._

It was said with such disdain that it made Jim want to curl up like a woodlouse. The fact that Spock had been shamed his whole life for being part human- even by his father- filled Jim with fury.

“Jim.” Spock could obviously feel him getting angry. “I have long accepted my father’s opinion. It no longer bothers me.”

“Mmm. Well, it bothers me.” Jim stared at the ceiling. “What was his actual reply?”

Spock hesitated, as if to decide whether he should recite the damn email or not. “He surmised his disappointment sufficiently and succinctly.”

“Ouch.”

“Hmmm.”

“And? What was your reply?”

When Spock didn’t reply, Jim rocked his head back slightly to read his expression. He pursed his lips.

“I… believe it conveyed my apathy towards his disapproval accurately.”

Jim sat up slowly, his body turned towards Spock. Spock followed his gaze, looking a little confused as to why Jim was suddenly moving, looking at him inquisitively. “Can I read it?”

Spock tilted his head slightly, his eyebrow twitching again. “It is not brief.”

He seemed a little taken aback by this request. Perhaps even- even a little bashful?

“I wanna read it,” he demanded.

Spock hesitated before sighing wearily, passing Jim his PADD with the email loaded up. Jim settled into a more comfortable reading position, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over the PADD. 

_Father;_

_I am appreciative of such a swift reply, from both you and my mother. I am aware that you are both busy with your duties as Ambassador of Earth at this politically turbulent time._

_However, in light of the tone of your response, I find that I must establish some clarifications._

Jim shifted in his seat. This was about to get quite heated, he could tell. He’d only ever heard Spock angry once in his life, and that was just over two moths ago in that bar. He braced himself to read this and be scared shitless.

_Firstly: as you have quite correctly indicated, the choices I have made in enrolling in Starfleet Academy and engaging in a romantic relationship with a human are my own, and ones for which I have full responsibility. I have not once regretted such choices._

_Secondly: I have not once forgotten my Vulcan heritage, nor shall I in the future. I am most appreciative of my upbringing, living under the laws of Surak, and your guidance. I have not rejected either. Your opinions continue to be of great concern to me, and I am sorry that I have disappointed you so; however, considering my dedication to Vulcan tradition- in as much as I am able, as a Vulcan-Human hybrid- I see no reason why you should hold such disappointment._

Jim’s heart broke a little there. No matter how much Spock evaded the subject, it was obvious that he cared about what his dad thought, and it still hurt him that he wasn’t completely supportive. He’d forgotten what it was like to have family, so much so that he couldn’t remember how that felt. 

His body slackened slightly. He’d been all geared up to read something sharp and threatening, and here he was reading something far more mature, truthful and heartfelt. This was why he needed Spock beside him as his second in command. He wasn’t the type to launch himself angrily at someone, like Jim was.

_Finally, and most importantly: a matter about which I should have perhaps made clearer in my previous email._

Ah. Here we go.

_The fact that I am in a relationship with a human does not diminish my Vulcan half. You, father, know better than anyone that such an assumption is false. This- about which you must surely be already aware- should be enough to appease your sense of disappointment, but evidently it is not. Let me make the matter clear. I have known, and been friends with James Tiberius kirk for over three years now; he is the most exceptional person I know. During this time, we have come to understand and care for each other in ways which I did not believe existed. We trust each other implicitly. I do not believe there is anything one of us would not do for the other._

_He is my_ th’y’la. _He has assured me that he loves me in return. I believe him._

_I need not belittle your emotional intelligence and define such feelings to you, father- I have been aware for some time that you hold similar feelings towards my mother. I have no doubt of this._

_Therefore I will lecture you no further than this; the relationship in which Jim and I are partaking is real. It is not trivial. We are dedicated to each other. And so, may I assure you that there is nothing that will force me to disengage the bond we have shared. I belong with him._

_Live long and Prosper._

_Your son,_

_Spock._

Jim stared at the PADD for a few seconds longer after he’d finished reading. He was aware that his mouth was open, making him look like a complete moron, but honestly he couldn’t control the shock that had knocked the breath out of him. He knew that at some point Spock would get defensive but… Jim had never expected Spock to… he never realised he made him feel so… 

He’d stood up to his father. In his- _their_ \- defence.

Jim laid the PADD aside silently. He looked up at Spock. He was standing across the room, his body turned so he was in profile. His head was facing dead ahead, but he was looking at the floor. His face was tense- worried. He noticed Jim had finished reading, now.

“Was my answer sufficient?”

For once in his life, Jim didn’t tease him. That dorky grin wasn’t plastered across his face. He didn’t laugh defensively. Instead, he stood up silently, stepping towards his awkward Vulcan boyfriend with what he hoped was a cool, serious expression. He stood before him, wordlessly cupping his cheek to turn his face towards his, and kissed him. 

Spock seemed a little surprised at first, but his expression melted as soon as their lips met. Jim tried to pour all his love into this one kiss, simultaneously trying to draw out the pain and anxiety which Spock would not admit was within him. In any other relationship, the idea of the other person realising Jim was doing this would be debateable; but he knew Spock understood. He knew Spock could feel what he was feeling, as he poured himself into him. 

Love. Gratitude. Awe. Guilt. He knew that with this one kiss, Spock would feel all of it, all of the adoration Jim was feeling right now. Jim sucked on his bottom lip, trying to draw out the anxiety, the sense of not belonging, trying to tell him how brave, how wonderful he thought he was. It was obviously working, because Spock replied with a quiet moan, thought it was not entirely through pleasure; it was vulnerable, desperate. Nothing like the confident Spock everyone saw everyday. Spock had barely moved, hands at his sides, body tense- but now he was pulling him closer, almost crushing his body against him. 

Jim pulled away, Spock following him for more, in the end resting his forehead against Jim’s. He could feel how tense he was still, without opening his eyes. Jim was no telepath, but he could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“I love you, Spock,” he said, with a clear, insistent voice. “And you belong here with me.”

“I belong… with you,” Spock repeated more quietly, eyes tight shut.

“Of course you do,” Jim replied with that smile at last. “Of course you do.”

Spock sighed in frustration, his frown tightening, as if he were gearing himself up to say something. “I have never belonged. It is appreciated that I should hear you say that I do so now.”

“Of course you do,” he repeated. He tipped Spock’s head forward slightly so he could kiss his forehead. His frown softened. “Always.”  
He’d forgotten that Spock would need such encouragement, which was stupid of him. 

Jim smiled as he traced Spock’s face with his lips. “And to answer your question, yeah. Your answer was sufficient.”

Spock’s mouth twitched, threatening a smile. “I believe my father should be persuaded.”

“So do I,” Jim replied. “He doesn’t actually seem like that bad a guy. He just has his… logic skewed.”

“Mmm,” Spock mumbled in a low voice. From their close proximity, Jim could practically feel the rumble in Spock’s chest as he did so, like he was purring. It made him a little shivery. A lot shivery. “My father is a good man- however, like most Vulcans, he is blinded by pride. The logic in my response should elicit a positive reaction from him.”

Jim said it before he could think about it, his lips millimetres away from Spock’s. “It’s elicited a pretty positive reaction from me, too.”

Jim kissed him again, this time drawn out, teasingly. Spock made that purring, rumbling noise again and Jim found it almost impossible to pull away.

“Evidently,” Spock mumbled.

Jim smiled, kissing along his neck, noticing the mark he’d made the day before with quiet smugness. He kissed the bruise gently. Spock released a measured sigh. “Wanna explore any other positive reactions you can elicit…?”

Spock didn’t reply. Well, he did, in sorts, as he brought Jim’s lips back to his and kissed him, leading him silently to his bed.


	9. Kirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Vulcan's aren't natural dancers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys  
> Thank you so much for your patience. Life has been hectic. I had exams, got a girlfriend, honestly don't even know what's happening! Then when I got home I was like 'oh i'll write the last chapter at last' then remembered i live in a school and AO3 is blocked! so i'm at my friend Bethan's house right now, who thankfully has good wifi, so SAY THANK YOU TO BETHAN EVERYONE!  
> In other news, i've had the best time writing this. In my opinion Spirk fluff is the best thing in the world. I hope you've enjoyed this, and here is the last chapter. Love to you all.  
> (in case you're interested, the song the title of this fic is based on is a song by Bloc Party, and is kind of a great Spirk song. Other songs which influenced the last chapter are The Mother We Share by Chvrches and Coming Down by the Dum Dum Girls)  
> love you all so much, and even though i may not be able to check very frequently, I LOVE hearing from you and getting messages from you lovelies. So, yes. *choking sobs* thank you for the journey with my first proper fanfic. <3

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Jim was looking in the bathroom mirror, grooming his hair. It had been a really long time since he’d done anything like this- dress up for a social event, that is. Although, now he was on the route to being a captain, he guessed he probably ought to get used to it. 

This was different, though.

“I am aware that there is no obligation for me to go, Jim,” Spock replied from the other room. Jim grunted and rolled his eyes. As often as people said Spock didn’t have a sense of humour, he sure did know how to twist his words.

“You _know _what I mean.”__

__“I would make myself plain if I were not prepared to attend the ball.”_ _

__“That’s just the thing Spock, you wouldn’t.” Jim stroked his newly shaven jaw and with one last check in the mirror, sighed. “Stubborn ass,” he muttered under his breath._ _

__“You know that I heard that.”_ _

__There it was, that smile that crept up no matter how hard he tried to fight it back. Not that he did often, although when he wanted to win a fight it wasn’t particularly helpful. It was the first time he’d seen it himself, as he stared back at his smiling reflection in the mirror. Now he understood a little of where Bones was coming from; the other night they’d hung out at one of the local bars, and a few drinks in Bones had grumpily noted that he was “goddamn glowing. Now I know it’s sentimental but, well, I’m glad. Don’t tell Spock I said that.”_ _

__Suddenly Spock appeared in the reflection and stopped close behind him. He looked down at him, though Jim was looking at them both in the mirror. They looked good together._ _

__“Although put crudely, you are right. There is no argument on the matter, I will go with you. After all, I asked you first. To then ‘stand you up’ would be bad conduct.”_ _

__Spock’s eyes met his in the mirror for a moment. Jim turned towards him to fully appreciate his appearance. He never thought he’d be lucky enough to see Spock in black tie, and yet there he was. “Well don’t you look dashing, all dressed up.”_ _

__“It does not suit me as well as you.”_ _

__Jim snorted. “You kidding? You were made to wear this.” He fixed his already immaculate collar, bringing Spock closer to him and planting a kiss. It was true; the black and white, the sharp edges of the suit seemed to work perfectly with Spock’s angular appearance. “Can I do your tie?”_ _

__Spock cocked his head slightly._ _

__“It’s kind of a tradition. Among couples, that is. And before you ask, I don’t know why.”_ _

__Spock gave a look that almost resembled an eye roll and a smirk as he turned on his heel to fetch his tie from the other room. “An unsatisfactory answer,” he called out from the other room, before returning. He produced the tie, palm upwards, and Jim took it, making sure to casually stroke his palm as he did so. He smiled as Spock stepped closer, so he could wrap the tie around his neck more easily. “I have found the majority of human behaviour to be inexplicable.”_ _

__“Yeah, but you have to admit, that’s part of our charm, that’s why you like us, right?” Jim fixed his tie into place, looking up at him when he noticed Spock had paused._ _

__He looked down. “I do not like it, or dislike it,” he replied innocently._ _

__He pulled the knot closer to Spock’s throat, who titled his head up slightly. Jim’s hand rested on Spock’s neck. “Sure, that’s why you’re with _me _.”___ _

____Spock’s eyebrows pulled together. “Why do you feel the need to insult yourself in such a way?”_ _ _ _

____Jim sighed. “I wasn’t- calling someone mysterious is usually a compliment, it’s flirtatious.”_ _ _ _

____Spock raised an eyebrow. “So, you are complimenting yourself by calling yourself inexplicable?”_ _ _ _

____Jim just glared at him. Three seconds later, Spock’s other eyebrow shot up. “You’re ruining the moment. You’re tie’s done.” He began to find his shoes, before he noticed Spock redoing his tie. He sighed._ _ _ _

_____Damn Vulcan, I tied it up just fine, doesn’t have to perfect. God, I sound like Bones… where are my damn shoes? ____ _ _ _

______He was nervous. Only a little, and he supposed it was more anticipation than nerves. But it was largely the fact that he knew that Spock wouldn’t really enjoy this event, even if he put on his stoic Vulcan face, and that he was actually doing it for him. So it made him on edge, only slightly. He huffed and put his hands on his hips as he scanned the room. He drummed his fingers._ _ _ _ _ _

______He felt a hand on his shoulder. _“Th’y’la.”_ Jim leant back, and felt his back meet Spock’s chest. “Jim, I have noticed that you’re mannerisms have gradually become more frantic.” He paused, and Jim waited for him to put two and two together. “You are nervous.”___ _ _ _

________He may have wanted Spock to figure it out, but that didn’t mean he had to verbally admit it. “I’m fine Spock, it’s cool- ah, there are my shoes- you ready to go-?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Spock grabbed Jim’s hand before he could go anywhere. He placed it gently against his temple, holding it there with a cool hand. Jim gave up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Fine. I don’t want to go knowing that you’re just gritting your teeth and dealing with it. You’ll be having a crap time and I’ll just be worrying about you. I want to reach a compromise. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Spock stroked Jim’s hand in reply and his left eyebrow twitched infinitesimally. “Do you have any suggestions?” He asked, curiosity peaked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Jim’s mouth playfully puckered and twisted in thought. “One song,” he said aloud. “We go, and we hang out until a slow song comes on, and dance to that song and that song only. I approach you and gallantly ask for you for a dance, and- with any luck- you gladly accept. Then, afterwards, we go home and I repay you in whatever way you desire.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Spock’s face froze as it calculated what Jim was saying. “That was an innuendo,” he confirmed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Doesn’t have to be. I’ll make you _sash-savas_ tea if you’d prefer. You name it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Spock pouted slightly in thought. Jim spotted the nervousness in his eyes. “One… slow dance.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yep. Name your price.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Spock released Jim’s hand from his temple. “I shall think over the matter, for now.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Jim turned to retrieve his shoes. “Good. Just so long as you give me an answer.” He sat at the edge of the bed and tied the laces. “This is a two way street, I wanna make sure you feel relaxed and loved, especially since you’re doing all this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He looked up at Spock with his winning smile, which he knew had to work, even though Spock never gave much indication that it did. He extended a hand to Jim. “I accept you’re compromise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Xxxx_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Spock stayed by his side for practically the whole time. Jim supposed he shouldn’t have expected anything less, considering the fact that he had agreed to join him for an enormous, loud party, surrounded by people. The ball was set in a marquee by the main academy building, beautifully decorated with floating lights and letting in the remaining light of the summer evening- however, having spent more time alone with one person than he ever had before over the past few months, being at something so big unsettled even Jim at first. Thankfully, Uhura and Bones and the others were there to offer a more familiar atmosphere._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Spock seemed in a good place. He and Uhura had a good catch up (who was wearing a stunning floor length black gown), and Jim took the opportunity to go get a drink. He’d been avoiding it till now with Spock by his side, because the bar was heaving with people._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“How’s your night been going with your Vulcan tied to your side?” The familiar gruff voice came from behind him. Jim spun round._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Good, Bones, it’s been going _good _,” he emphasized in reply to his friend’s heavily cynical comment. He wrapped an arm around him and brought him closer to his side as they approached the crowd. “You having a good time?”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Sure I am,” he replied with an obvious note of sarcasm which Jim knew wasn’t necessarily intentional. “Last time I’m gonna attend any sort of social gathering before I head to Dramia II.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I thought it was Capella IV?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Change of plans, instead I’m gonna freeze my ass off in a tent with little to no human contact.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Almost sounds like your idea of heaven.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Almost,” he emphasised. “I’ll have to bring plenty of Scotty’s whiskey to warm me up- speaking of which, let’s focus on the matter at hand shall we?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Jim narrowed his eyes and examined Bones’ expression. “Are you nervous?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Of course I’m nervous, you lunatic!” He growled, gesticulating so fiercely that he knocked a drink out of a girl’s hand. Having apparently not noticed, Bones ignored Jim who was wincing and trying to point out the disgruntled girl. She was glaring at the back of his head like she was willing it to explode. “I’m going to a practically desolate planet with limited access to outside communication and I have the eyes of Starfleet watching over me, I’ll be lucky if I don’t get frost bite before I leave- what the hell are you pointing at?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Jim sucked in a breath and turned Bones around. “I’m so sorry, my friend isn’t himself at the moment. Bones, in your distress it looks like you knocked this lady’s drink.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Bones didn’t say anything at first as he evaluated the situation, looking rather surprised. The woman was pretty gorgeous, olive skinned and green eyed, a strong jawline and sharp features, the kind of woman you’d be afraid to pour martini all over her beautiful emerald jumpsuit. She replied to Bones’ silence with raised eyebrows, waiting. Jim mentally face palmed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I’m sorry- I, er, gosh, let me get you another drink-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________Gosh? GOSH? Why Bones, you southern belle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He gradually became more and more flustered. Jim had forgotten how completely hopeless Bones was with women. He patted his pockets, uselessly trying to find something to clean up the mess he’d made._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Another drink would be great.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She didn’t smile, only surveyed Bones’ awkwardness with amusement. Bones did smile, apologetically. “Another drink would be great.” He turned his head to the side and muttered, “D’you hear that Jim, another drink would be- Jim? Jim!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He was already gone. He’d snuck away as soon as he’d seen where the situation was going, and it was probably a good thing too, since Spock apparently needed his help more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Where Spock and Uhura had been having a perfectly civilized conversation, was now a small gaggle of girls and guys surrounding him, swooning over him. The fortunate man who was at the front of the crowd was talking with- _at _\- Spock, who stood bolt up right, jaw twitching. If Jim had ever seen him look panicked, it would be now, as he attempted to lean away from one flirtatious person but couldn’t since there was another on his other side. As he spotted an Orion girl approaching them with excitement, Jim decided now was the best time to intervene and end the torture.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Jim had forgotten what a handsome Vulcan in a suit would do to the rest of the world._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Uhura was standing on the edge of the crowd, covering her mouth and looking incredibly guilty._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“Why didn’t you stop them?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________“I did, I scared the last lot away, and now this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Jim sighed and sidled up to Spock. He took his hand, hoping that would give everyone a sign to _back off_ , as well as giving Spock something familiar and hopefully comforting. When Spock took Jim’s hand he squeezed it so hard Jim almost yelped. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Let’s get out of here.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Spock bowed his head and lead the way. Jim turned round and gave Nyota a quick cheeky salute before being dragged away by Vulcan strength. The same Vulcan strength which was practically breaking his hand. Spock found a far less crowded area in the corner and stopped abruptly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Are you OK? Why didn’t you tell them them to back off?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Spock gave a weary sigh. “I could not find a solution to the problem which was both effective and socially acceptable.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Jim gently nudged Spock’s chin with his hand, encouraging him to look at him. “Next time, you can go for the socially unacceptable solution. You don’t have to put yourself in situations like that. Like this,” he added._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Spock’s tense expression warmed. Damn Vulcan could tell what he was feeling. Jim needed to find an off button for that or something. Although sometimes it was a very helpful way of telling him what was going on in his mind without having to actually convey it. Right now they obvious sensation was guilt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“One dance.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“What,” Jim moaned, “no, we’re not-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“You suggested that we meet a compromise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________“Yeah, but that was _before _.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“I did not realise you were the type of man to back out of an agreement, Jim.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“OK, hey, it’s not like we took an oath or anything, I’m not ‘backing out’.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________“We made an agreement. The conditions were that I agree to one dance.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Jim stared at him, aghast. Spock raised a playful eyebrow. “You were just surrounded and trapped by a group of freshman, and you’re ok to _dance_ with me.” ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Spock looked at him without wavering. “Jim Kirk, you underestimate me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Jim was shocked into silence for a second, before he started laughing, propping a hand on Spock’s shoulder, who was now sporting an almost smug smirk, eyebrows raised in mock surprise at Jim’s response. Jim caught his breath and he looked up at him. Just as he began to formulate an appropriately flirtatious reply, he heard a familiar song come on. A slow song._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“How about that dance then?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Spock bowed his head slightly in reply, his serious face back on again. Jim knew that face. That was the ‘I must face this challenge with all the focus and professionalism I have’ face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________He led him to a good open area at the edge of were the crowd was, and on his travels spotted Bones, who was still with the woman from before. He gave him an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, which Bones saw, and he mouthed obscenities at him from across the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I did not realise Doctor McCoy could be so socially agreeable.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Don’t be mean.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“I was under the impression that I was paying a compliment.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“No you weren’t, now come here,” Jim argued, pulling Spock towards him. Suddenly the task at hand seemed far more daunting than before. Dancing? With a Vulcan? Bones wouldn’t let him hear the end of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Spock looked at him, sternly awaiting instructions. Jim smiled, feeling strangely nervous as if he were a 15 year old boy at prom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“The thing about dancing is that you could go about it a number of ways, but ultimately, the trick is to relax…” he placed Spock’s hands on his back, who was still looking at him with intense concentration, and moved in closer. “… forget about it, just let it happen, like breathing, or walking…” he wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck. “… just, try not to think about it too much.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Spock made a dissatisfied noise at Jim’s vague advice, and Jim chuckled. Spock understandably felt tense, and seemed to be making an effort focus all his attention on Jim instead of the mass of people and distractions around him. The more focused he was, the less he thought about everything going on around him, the better. “I know that all of this is against your natural instinct, but… thanks Spock.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Spock looked at him, calculating a response. “You do not need to thank me, Jim.” Jim looked up at him, making sure he was keeping a good distance from him as they gently swayed side to side. “You respect my needs, and in return I respect yours.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________“Two way street,” he muttered, recalling what he’d said earlier in the night. He knew he didn’t have to say it loudly, Spock would hear him, even over the music. And suddenly he didn’t want to say anything at all; he marveled that Spock was here, with him, _dancing_ with him, in public, being awkward and nervous and reluctant but trying anyway, and he was a miracle. He stroked the back of his neck with thumb, hoping Spock would pick up some of what he was feeling. He seemed to warm up slightly in response.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________________________I want to kiss him_ he thought abruptly.__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Spock swallowed nervously._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Sorry,” Jim laughed quietly. He knew he couldn’t read his thoughts like this, but he could read the way they made him feel, and he hadn’t intended that thought to pop into his head. It wasn’t the kind of thing he could control._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Spock opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, his eyes telling more than he could articulate. “I can’t, Jim.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“I know,” Jim said with a smile, his hands sliding down to Spock’s chest as the song came to an end. Spock looked down and Jim ducked his head round to find his gaze. “Hey, Spock, I know. I get it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Spock frowned slightly. Looking almost… defeated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Hey.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Spock’s eyes snapped up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________“Let’s go home.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Xxxxxxxx_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Jim threw his tie onto his dresser as soon as he entered the room, making a loud, satisfied sigh. “That was a good night.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________Spock didn’t reply as he sat on the edge of the bed, taking of his shoes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________He didn’t want to push it, so Jim went to the bathroom and washed his face, thankfully splashing the cold water over his overheating cheeks. _Stupid human brain thinking stupid human things._ It was going so well. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________The one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about, though, was what Spock had said before. “You respect my needs, and in return I respect yours.” Had Jim disrespected Spock in that sense tonight? He’d tried so hard to make him at ease. But then he’d thought about kissing him and Spock had shut himself off again. What else could he have done? But the problem was, that now Spock was upset about something, and it couldn’t have just been about Jim wanting to kiss him, could it?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________He kicked his shoes across the room, tumbling down quickly from his high. He turned to look at Spock, who had his eyes closed and his hands on his lap in meditation._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________“Spock.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________________No reply._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________________________“Spock.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Jim.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“If you’re upset, you can talk about it. I’m not a mind reader like you.” Came out a little harsh, but he was getting frustrated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“It is not mind reading, it’s-”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Don’t change the subject,” he interrupted, standing where he as in the middle of the room. “If I did something wrong, I’d like to know, because I’m trying my best, but if I can do better I will.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock opened his eyes, but didn’t look at him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“It’s like you said, Spock, you respect my needs, and I respect yours, and that’s what I’m trying to do- but if I’m doing that wrong, then, I need to know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Now Spock was looking at him, slightly puzzled and tilting his head. He hesitated. “That is not the case.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Jim felt a little relieved. “Ok. So, is there anything you want to talk about?” he said, calming down. He sat beside him. “I could sit here all night. I don’t mind.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock was quiet, pouting his lips slightly as he debated discussing the subject._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“My humanity is stronger than it was a year ago.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Jim nodded encouragingly. “Yeah, I’d say so too. Do you feel like that’s… a good thing?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock took a measured breath. “Embracing my half human side has had its benefits.” He paused. “It has brought me closer to you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Jim let his head rest on Spock’s shoulder. “But?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock formulated his answer and tensed up. “However, being half human… forces me to speculate certain things, things which I can never achieve in reality.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Jim translated. He lifted his head and turned to look at him. “Spock, what is it you want?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock pursed his lips._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Whatever it is that you want to say, it’s not going to sound dumb. I promise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock’s jaw tensed. He exhaled. “I want... to be able to relax my mind- in the way that I can never achieve, not even through meditation, since my mind is composed of two very, very different halves. When I considered… when I felt your mind, I knew I wanted to kiss you, too, but I felt ashamed. I couldn’t.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“And that’s Ok, that’s part of who you are too. It’s frustrating for you but it’s still a part of you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and sighed. “The contention in my mind never rests. It’s tiring, Jim.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“I know, I know,” he whispered, leaning his forehead on Spock’s shoulder. An idea occurred to him. “Come here.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Jim sat cross legged on the bed. Spock looked around at him, puzzled. “I am here,” he said, as if Jim were going crazy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________He laughed. “I know, I meant sit on the bed and face me. I have an idea.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock hesitated, but did as he was told, still looking a little defeated although he knew better than to doubt Jim’s random bursts of inspiration. “What is your idea?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Well,” he said soothingly, “the most relaxed I’ve seen you is when we’re together. Would you say that’s true?” Spock nodded tentatively. Jim shuffled forward and placed his hands on either side of Spock’s face. “You don’t have to feel relaxed in social situations, many people don’t; but if you want to, then this is a good place to start. I’m going to think of things that make me happy and relaxed. And maybe you’ll learn something about yourself, while also feeling what I’m feeling.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________Spock closed his eyes. “You do not like it when I ‘read your mind’.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________________“Not all the time, no. But you’re my _th’y’la_ , remember? Even though we're different in many ways, we’re one and the same. You might learn something from me.” He leaned forward again. “Besides,” he whispered, “have you noticed yet what makes me happy and relaxed?”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Spock’s eyebrows pulled together, seeing what Jim was seeing. “… Me.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Yeah, big surprise, dumbass,” he gave a small, and Spock reflected the smile. It was working. “If you feel most at peace when we’re together, maybe you need to focus on moments like this. When there’s no one here, nothing else is happening. The universe is crowded, but it doesn’t have to be in here, in our minds.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Jim closed his eyes and thought of him, of them, of songs, of PADD messages, of kisses and laughs and friends, of inside jokes and beanies and sash savas, of Bones’ house in Georgia and Spock, always Spock, of days spent wishing he was with him, of the stars and planets they’d pointed at and planned to see someday soon, of their future, of their future with everyone he loved, of coffee and Spock covered in mud, Spock smiling, really smiling, of them on the Enterprise, side by side, fearless and happy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Jim,” Spock whispered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________“Spock.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________Jim opened his eyes. Spock looked entirely different. He looked more like he was asleep, mouth slightly open, leaning forward slowly until his forehead touched Jim’s. “You are quite amazing.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________________________He smiled. “ _We’re _amazing.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________“I love you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________The smile grew. “I love you, too.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________________________And when Spock kissed him he felt the world disappear too, and they were everything because they were together. And with one shared thought, they knew that in fact, whatever they encountered, whatever universe they were in, they always would be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
